Evading Darkness
by kendraDrake
Summary: As Jubilee approaches her 40th birthday, she begins to question her ability to fight the darkness associated with her vampiric nature. As usual, there is only one man she trusts to pull her back from the edge. Rated M for adult content and dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

She wiped her hand across the back of her mouth, staring down at the unconscious form of her now-ex-boyfriend. She ran her teeth along her fangs, cleaning any leftover blood from them. No, she hadn't bit him, but after they'd had one of their more violent fights, she hadn't been able to resist taking advantage of the fact that he had an open wound. Hell, he'd been unconscious, so he'd probably never know. Still, the taste, oh, the taste. Nothing could compare to it, even if it had only been lukewarm.

She shook her head and turned away to grab her coat and the bag she'd had the foresight to pack earlier in the day. "Just a taste" had been a very bad idea, because she was craving more. She didn't trust herself to stay there any longer near his prone form, and instead, she jogged out into the hall of the rundown apartment building, not bothering to even close the door behind her as she trotted down the stairs. She walked casually for the thirteen blocks it took her to get to the hole-in-the-wall bar that let her use their phone from time to time. She'd given up on cell phones years ago, not wanting to be tracked or found. Just wanting to be left alone.

She laid two fifties down on the bar. In return, she got what was left of the open bottle of whiskey and the bartender's cell. Her hands shook as she dialed the number. She didn't bother to even take the spout off of the bottle, just bit it clean off with her fangs. She drank deeply from the bottle while the phone rang. The burn of the liquor felt good and reminded her for just a few seconds of her human side. That side was getting harder and harder to stay connected with.

"Hello?" Came the gruff response. She realized it was the middle of the night. He had been asleep.

"Are you alone?"

There was a moment's silence before the response said, "No one here that can't be gone."

"Two days," she said before she closed the phone, deleted the history, and left it on the bar, turning and walking out with the bottle still in her hand.

She started up the road, her bag slung over her back, the bottle in her hand occasionally traveling toward her lips. She looked young; any thugs or thieves would assume she was easy pickings, but any who came near felt an unnerving sense of dread and avoided her. That was a skill she'd learned later not only to protect herself, but to protect those who would approach her uninvited. As she walked toward the next town, she was unmolested. Her free hand curled into a fist as she fought the urge to walk into any of the busy little restaurants or shops, to grab up an innocent passerby, to drink. She had waited too long. She drained what was left in the bottle, not even able to fully enjoy the effects of the alcohol. Unable to fight the fierce anger and panic that was tearing her apart, she gave into the beast and threw down the bottle and ran.

* * *

He leaned back in the chair, balancing it on its back legs as he stared into the fire. This was the fourth night since she had called. She had sounded bad, hadn't bothered with any pleasantries, had only said five words. Sighing, Logan looked at the end of the cigar he had been smoking, watching the red cherry glow while the smoke stung his eyes. Not enjoying it, he tossed the whole thing into the fireplace to watch it burn there. He hated this part of her visits the worst: the waiting. At first, she had just popped in to see him without calling, but after she'd run into a few former X Men and interrupted him with a lady friend, those had stopped. She came here for the same reason he did: to get away. Glancing at the clock, he told himself that there were plenty of reasons she could be late, but unfortunately, none that he could think of were good.

He let the chair drop back down to the floor and stood, feeling suddenly caged in his small, two-room cabin in northern Canada. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans because he didn't know what else to do with them. He moved to one of the windows to push the thick curtains back so he could stare out into the night. He pushed the sash up and leaned out into the chilly air. It was winter, and he was miles away from anyone else. He closed his eyes and just let the night sounds and smells invade his senses.

He'd left the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning about five years earlier, knowing Kitty and her family could easily handle things without him. He was growing older, even if his body didn't age. He had begun to feel disconnected from the students who seemed younger and younger to him with each new class. He'd watched his friends and his darlin' girls age, marry, and have families of their own. Well, all of them except one. Jubilee had taken off on her own years before he'd left. It had hurt, to be cut out, but he'd understood, perhaps better than most, what it was like to fight the animal instinct that threatened to take over your thoughts, your body, and your every desire. He knew she had to get the monkey off her back some way, so he'd never criticized her choices: the drugs, the string of shady love affairs, her short stint in crime, and who knew what else. She had tried so hard to be a "good girl" early in life that doing all the things she shouldn't must have felt like an outlet. Or maybe she had just wanted to punish herself for who or what she was. He had understood. He hadn't judged. When she had called, he had always opened his arms to her without asking any questions.

He took a deep breath of the frigid air. It had to be close to five below tonight. Looking up, he could see that the moon was almost full, its light reflecting easily off of the snow and the frozen sections of the small pond just outside of the cabin. It had been ten months since he'd heard from her last. Sometimes, especially early on, she'd call just to let him know she was alive. Then her visits had become more sporadic, not even revolving around holidays anymore. The calls had become fewer and fewer, and he'd noted a decline in her willingness to talk. Then she would visit, and he would help her. She would get better, and when she left, while she still didn't resemble the girl he'd once thought of as a daughter, she was better. The air of hopelessness, of anger and frustration, had ebbed. There had been about seven visits in the five years he'd been at this cabin. When he had purchased it, his plan had been to enjoy the solitude and to take the opportunity to commune with nature, to be away from humanity and the hatred and poison of prejudice. He leaned back inside and shut the window, letting the heavy curtain fall back into place. He hadn't thought he'd be up here for this long, but he didn't have any plans to leave since he wasn't yet ready to face the human race again in any long-term capacity.

She was on a road to self-destruction, but maybe he was as well. He just hoped that she arrived soon and that they saved each other in time. He walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer, popping the top with one claw. He took a long swallow and then turned back to put another two logs on the fire. He'd prepared for her coming, covering all of the windows to keep the sun out with the heavy curtains and blankets he'd purchased for that very reason. He knew she'd be cold and tired after having climbed up the mountain to his cabin, so even though he already thought it warm enough, he continued to build up the fire. He rubbed his hand over his face and fell back on the oversized couch and laid his head back. It was eleven o'clock. He normally was asleep by now, but he'd barely slept since her call. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off, trying to revive the image of a laughing teenager in a bright yellow coat, but she was elusive, and, he admitted to himself, imaginary now.

* * *

When all of the animals in the woods suddenly went quiet, Logan was jerked back into awareness. The sudden and complete silence was eerie, but he knew what it meant. Nature had sensed a predator was near. He tossed back the rest of the beer, now piss warm, and glanced at the clock again. One a.m. He went to the door and pulled it open, his eyes scanning the tree line, his nostrils flaring as he searched for a scent. There it was, there she was. He watched as she came slowly out of the woods toward him.

He felt his heart squeeze in his chest. She still looked so young and vulnerable, but he knew how deceiving looks were. She'd likely killed more people in her lifetime than he could imagine, and had only cared about those deaths about half the time. As she came closer, he could see that her hair, shoulder length, was hanging loosely around her face. The jeans she was wearing were riddled with holes and long, jagged rips, and she wore nothing but a black wife beater tee shirt. At least she wore good, sturdy boots, even if they showed heavy wear.

She lifted her head and made eye contact with him, and he had to push aside the shock of seeing those red eyes. He should have become used to them years ago, but he always seemed to be expecting something else, the old her perhaps. The girl who didn't exist. Still, she was his, so he opened his arms, and she stumbled into them. He led her to the fire and let her kneel before it, turning back around to close and bolt the door as she warmed herself. Neither of them spoke as he moved a wooden, straight-backed chair closer to where she knelt and sat down.

The fingers she held up to the flames were shaking, and he could tell from the paleness of her skin, the way her entire body appeared skeletal, that the shaking wasn't from the cold. She would never ask, and if she weren't in such a state, he knew she would refuse. He released one claw with a ringing SNKT sound, which brought her eyes to him. He dragged it up his forearm, which made her look away and fist her hands in her lap. But the smell and the sound, he knew, that was what did it. He watched his own blood run in a stream down his arm and smelled the metallic odor. He could hear the loud drip of the blood onto the wood floor. Within seconds, she was grasping his arm, her teeth buried deep into his wrist, her entire body cradled around his arm so that he had to slide off the chair to kneel on the floor beside her. She was quiet as she drank, her body bent over double, and he took the opportunity to run his hand along the dark, dirty hair. It was matted, and she was a mess, worse than he had ever seen her.

He was patient, ignoring the dizziness that washed over him as his healing factor worked overtime to fight the vampire's poison and to produce even more blood cells to replenish what was being taken. He wasn't sure how long it took her to stop, but when she did, she fell back against his chest in a sluggish stupor.

Carefully, he lifted her into his arms and headed toward the bedroom and the small bath that was connected to it. He turned the water on and removed her boots while she leaned in a daze against the wall. He pushed her into the shower fully clothed, stepping back when she lashed out in surprise and anger. She snarled at him, but he just turned and walked out, knowing she wasn't herself. He leaned against the door when he stepped out of the small space and took a moment to lean his head back against it. _The first day is always the worst, _he reminded himself. _She'll be more human tomorrow_. She'd be the woman he was still learning to understand. He rifled through some drawers and then opened the door again to set a towel and a pair of sweats on the sink, not even glancing at the shower. Then, he went out to the living room, sank onto the sofa, and slept for the first time in days, just relieved to know she was alive and safe.

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter. I know it's starting out dark, but I really wanted to establish just how far Jubilee has fallen into her vampiric state over the years. Updates may be a little slow, perhaps once a week. Please let me know your reactions so far. I appreciate any reviews.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thanks JubesJunkie and tokyofox for the reviews and for Canucklehead Cowgirl and Wynterheart for following!

JubesJunkie: I think that's a great idea. I normally write a few chapters ahead, but I can already think of a place where Laura would easily fit into the story. I agree that she'd probably be a great help to Jubilee when things get tough.

tokyofox: Just bear with me! Things will begin to lighten up more and more each chapter (though there will be some rough spots throughout). The goal is to not just get back to the Wolvie-Jubilee relationship that we all love, but to take it even further. There will be some fun times to come. Thanks for the compliments and your patience.

* * *

Chapter 2

Logan slept soundly until about two o'clock the next afternoon. He pushed open the door to his room and peered in. Jubilee was asleep on her stomach, her features relaxed. He moved closer to the bed and frowned as he studied her. Her olive colored skin was closer to its natural hue, likely thanks to the blood she'd ingested the night before. Her hair hung half over her face, so he bent to brush it out of the way. She still had the same lithe figure she'd had when she was changed into a vampire, though she was clothed in one of his tee shirts and sweats that were too baggy for her. She had kicked the covers off of her at one point, so he pulled them over her again. He waited a moment to see if he had woken her. It was so easy to imagine she'd open her eyes, yell "Wolvie!" and pounce on him for a hug. _That ain't likely to happen_, he reminded himself. No matter how much time passed, he still found it easy to imagine that she'd just magically be her old self again. When she remained still, he turned and went back out to the main room. He had plenty of things to keep him occupied.

He decided not to wake her until it was nearly twilight, after a couple quick slices to his wrist, he placed a mug filled with blood next to the bed and said gruffly, "Food'll be ready in five."

She shifted beneath the covers, burrowing deeper under the pillows, faintly, he could hear her say, "The sun is still up. I can feel it."

"Yeah," he returned, "but it'll be down within the hour, so get yer feet under yer ass and get movin'." She just continued to ignore him.

He walked into the bathroom to retrieve her sodden clothing and the used towels. As he walked past the bed, he kicked the mattress, and she only grunted in response. "If you don't get up," he reminded her, "yer gonna be sluggish for the rest of the week. I don't wanna listen to yer bitchin', so get outta bed." When she flopped onto her back and opened one eye, he went out the door and kicked it closed behind him.

He dumped her clothes into the garbage and the towels into the laundry basket next to the stacked washer/dryer in one portion of the kitchen. Then he headed back to the stove to continue frying up bacon and scrambled eggs. A lot of bacon and eggs. While she didn't really need anything besides blood to survive, he knew the act of eating regular food seemed to do something for her mentally, so he always fed her early in her visits.

When she shuffled out of the room, her hair was pressed up on one side, and he tried not to smirk. She slumped into the chair, and he placed an overflowing plate of food in front of her. She dug in without comment, so he sat down across from her to eat his own mountain of food. They didn't speak during the meal, and the only sounds were of forks scratching against plates and the tinny sound of country music coming from the radio he'd turned on while he was cooking.

When he was finished, she was still working on hers, so he leaned back in the chair and just watched her. When she drained what was left in the mug and set it back on the table, one blade sprang out of his hand. When he leaned forward to refill it, she placed her hand over the top of the mug, but never looked back up at him or paused in carrying another forkful of eggs to her mouth.

He grunted in response and sat back, instead pulling a cigar out of the pocket of his shirt and slicing the end off. He stood to turn on the stove, using the flame there to light it. In the process, he dumped what food was left in the pan onto her plate and then sat back down to enjoy his cigar.

When she was finished, she stood without looking at him and walked out the door. He took a couple more puffs off his cigar and then picked up the dishes to take them to the sink. He took his time washing them, not wanting to crowd her. When everything was washed, dried, and put away, he stretched his arms over his head, hearing the bones crack, and then stepped outside as well. She was standing at the edge of the porch, just looking out at everything. He moved to stand beside her, leaning against one of the posts that held up the tin roof.

"Food stayin' down?" He asked as he folded his arms over his chest against the chilly night air.

She nodded.

They remained like that for several minutes, each enjoying the quiet and peace that came from being so far away from civilization. They each could hear the animals moving about in the forest that surrounded them and smell the crisp scent of the smoke from the wood fire he had burning inside. There was something about being away from everything that was calming and in some ways felt like a healing salve. He glanced over at her. She hadn't moved and was just still staring out across the pond. He straightened and turned to go back inside respecting the fact that she wasn't ready for conversation yet. It always did take her time to warm up socially. In fact, it was taking longer and longer each visit. Just before he closed the door, he said, "I don't ask much from ya, but I want you to say good bye this time."

* * *

When the door clicked closed behind Logan, Jubilee felt something twist in her chest. He did not ask for much and in fact rarely asked for anything. He always just gave her what she needed. The last time she had been there, she'd planned to just step outside for a moment, but had been halfway across Canada before she'd even realized that she hadn't thought to say good bye. She'd just stepped off the porch and kept walking.

Slowly and carefully, she lifted a hand to rub it over her face. She had to stay in control. Somehow Logan had known she was on the brink of running again. She was on the verge of making a big decision, and she wasn't really sure if she was ready. It was so much easier to try to run from things, to run from herself and what she was, than to deal with them. But she'd begun to make up her mind during the long run from Kentucky to northern Canada that this would be her last mad dash. She had been punishing herself for over twelve years, and it wasn't doing anything except hurting other people. She smiled wryly. Ten years ago, she hadn't given a shit about who else was being hurt. She had only cared about what she wanted and had ignored anyone who had tried to help. There had been so many who had come after her: Laura, Remy, Storm, Raizo, Shane…. She had lashed out at all of them. Had burned bridges that she'd never bothered trying to rebuild.

She closed her eyes and fought the lethargy that threatened to pull her back into sleep. It was always like that for her when she first had his blood. It would be so easy to just crawl back into bed and…. She shook her head. No. Instead, she tried to focus on what she was feeling. It was refreshing to feel again. A life of weak animal blood bought from the butcher would cut the craving for human blood for only so long, and it certainly had its drawbacks. Sights, sounds, smell, touch, tastes: all of her senses had been severely muted as a result. The longer she stayed on such a diet, the worse things got. If she hadn't been lazy and had been getting fresh blood (even fresh animal blood), things wouldn't have gotten so bad. When she had arrived the previous night, her body had been so numbed to sensation that she hadn't even felt the cold. The only clue to how cold she was had been the difficulty of moving her joints. Well, that and the fact that her hair had frozen to the side of her face.

Now she reveled in the feel of the cold air causing goose bumps to raise on her arms. She took a deep breath, enjoying the burning of the cold air in her throat and the way her lungs ached. She could feel the food resting heavily in her stomach, but even that she enjoyed compared to the normal void. She wanted to feel less empty. Food was an artificial fullness, but it would work for now until she worked out the rest of it. She stood there for a few more moments, drinking in her surroundings, before she turned to go back inside.

She found Logan sitting on the couch with a book in his hands. Jubilee settled into the couch next to him and gazed into the fire. She barely noticed when he set the book aside to look at her for a few moments. She was entranced by the play of colors in the flames. Blues. Reds. Yellows. Oranges. Even a hint of green. It was beautiful.

She realized how patient he was when he just continued to sit there, gazing into the fire with her. She was grateful but couldn't find the words to tell him. Instead, she reached a hand over to rest it on top of his. He turned his hand over until his palm met hers and his fingers linked with hers. Where she had enjoyed the coldness of the air before, now she enjoyed the heat that radiated from the fireplace and from his skin. They sat peacefully, the quiet unstrained, for about an hour.

Finally, she found the words. "I won't leave," she said quietly, her speech stilted and unsure, "Not for a while. Unless you want me to."

"That's good," he said in response.

She let the silence stretch, feeling awkward, wishing he would speak. Finally, she admitted, "It's different this time."

She felt his fingers flex against hers, but he still said nothing. She moistened her lips with her tongue, darting a glance at him, but still finding him looking at the fire. The muscles in his jaw were tight. Good. This was just as awkward for him. That made her feel a little better somehow. Talking about feelings was foreign to them both.

Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I don't want to do it anymore."

When she stopped speaking, casting a sidelong glance his way again, he opened his mouth to speak, stopped to clear his throat, then asked, "What are you done with?"

That was a good question. How would she explain it? How to say she didn't want to hurt him anymore? Or other people? Or herself? She looked down at their hands and decided that was a good place to start. Carefully, she whispered, "Being alone."

She only realized he had been holding his breath when he let it out all at once. In a swift movement, he turned to pull her into his arms in a tight hug. She remained stiff at first, overwhelmed by him. The warmth of his body and his woodsy scent assaulted her senses. Gritting her teeth, she fought the panic that rose up within her and screamed to escape, to run. The contact, she realized, was more for him than for her. She took a few deep breaths through her nose as she tried to relax her body, moving her hands up his back until she hugged him back.

Logan couldn't believe her words. He was almost afraid to hope, to believe what she was saying. He had had to touch her, to hold her, to believe that she really was there and wasn't just another teasing fantasy. But he had no reason to doubt her. She had never said anything like this before, never made any promises that she didn't mean to keep. When she began to soften, when he felt her tentative touch on his back, he pulled back, realizing how uncomfortable she normally was with being touched after an initial feeding. Another difference from the girl she used to be who would use any excuse to cuddle against him.

He looked down at her, feeling awkward. He pulled back and pushed to his feet, clearing his throat again as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He moved closer to the fire and asked, "What do you need?"

He heard her stand as well and sensed more than saw her move to stand next to him. "Blood."

He nodded. "As much as you need, you got. What else."

"One of those sun benders," this she said in a tentative whisper.

He paused for a few moments, considering that. She was more serious than he thought if she was asking for one of the medallions that allowed vampires to move around in full sunlight. His blood would allow her limited time in the sun near sunrise and sunset. If she wanted a bender, she was thinking of being out for an extended period of time. He finally said, "I'll see what I can do."

It was her turn to be quiet for a few moments before she spoke again. "It's going to be very hard," she admitted. "I know I can be pretty nasty on a normal day. I'm going to want to run. I'm going to want to hurt people, to hurt you." She shivered. "I want you to stop me, even if you have to hurt me."

He nodded, accepting the truth in that statement. "I can do that." He grinned over at her, trying to lighten the mood. "'Sides, if I hurt ya too bad, my blood will help ya get over it pretty quick."

She smiled a small smile, "That should help with any guilt you might feel about causing me bodily harm."

"Yep." He smiled back at her and then placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it as he said, "I doubt it'll come to that, though. You're tough. You'll make it through."

She smiled wryly back at him and then looked back down into the flames. Quietly, she said, "I sure hope you're right."

He released her shoulder then and turned to pull on a wool-lined coat. "There's firewood that needs split and brought inside. You helpin' out or what?"

She smiled and caught the second coat that he threw toward her. She let out her breath. It was over. She'd made the decision and committed. And, because he knew it was the best way to help her through it, he was accepting it and letting it alone for now. "I bet I'll chop double what you can manage," she boasted as they headed out the door into the cold night.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: A special thank you to awakedead0 for letting me know I uploaded the wrong chapter last time for Chapter 2. *faceplant*

Also special thanks to Amy Hunt for being the first to favorite the story and to Canucklehead Cowgirl, Wynterheart, and Beezzi following.

Beezzi: I'm glad you can appreciate where Jubilee is. We're still a little dark in this chapter, but we should be seeing fleeting glimpses of her old self as we move forward. It's rough to be an immortal stuck in a seventeen year old body when you're seeing all of your friends getting older and older….

Chapter 3

When Logan woke the next afternoon, he pushed himself into a sitting position on the couch. Rubbing at his face, he grimaced. His sleep schedule was getting confused since he was spending his nights up with Jubilee. He pushed himself off the couch and began making coffee. It happened each time she came, and it was hell on his system, but he figured it was worth it in the long run. Besides, things were going to be different this time. As he dumped the water into the top of the machine, he grinned. Besides, why should he be the only one suffering. He went to the bedroom and pounded on the door, yelling out, "If yer gonna join the world of the livin', you better start thinking about getting up while the sun's still out."

He laughed when he heard something heavy hit the other side of the door in response. "Coffee's on," he yelled before turning back to the kitchen to pop a couple pieces of bread into the toaster. He was buttering it when the bedroom door opened and a tired-looking vampire girl walked out.

"I hate you," was all she said as she slumped into one of the chairs at the table. Figuring that this was already improvement (she'd bothered to speak to him this morning, even if she didn't have anything nice to say), he just laughed and offered her one of the pieces of toast. She shook her head as she explained, "I'm hungry, but bread's not goin' to help with that."

He grunted. "You want it in a cup or from the source."

"I'm going to need the cup for coffee," she grumbled, so he walked over to the table and offered her his arm. He stood next to her, ignoring the sharp pain as she bit into his wrist. He watched the steady drip of the coffee into the pot, still eating his toast, while he waited for her to finish. When he felt her lick his pulse point clean, he went back over to pull two coffee cups out of the cabinet.

"Lots of cream and sugar," she mumbled as she rested her head on her folded arms on the table.

He poured his own cup of coffee black and doctored hers until it was tan colored. He set it on the table in front of her and kicked at her chair, "Get up and move around."

She glared at him as she pushed herself into a standing position. Taking a drink of the warm liquid, she commented, "You sure are bossy in the morning."

He grunted. "You haven't seen me 'in the morning' for years, sweetheart," he pointed out as he started stoking the fire.

She made a face at his back but started pacing around the room. It did help to move around. It was hard to force herself awake while the sun was up, and the added sluggishness of digesting his healing-factor-infused blood made her want to just crawl back into bed, but she knew he was right. Moving was the only way to shake off the tiredness. That didn't mean she had to like it or be gracious about it. As she paced, she complained, "I'm going to turn forty years old next week, you know that right? I'm not a teenage kid anymore, so don't treat me like one."

He looked at her over the rim of his cup. He was lounging in one of the arm chairs, watching her roam around the room, "You sure act like a teenager when it comes to gettin' outta bed."

"So do a lot of people."

"Yeah. Lotsa teenagers."

She shot a glare in his direction as she finished her coffee and went to the counter to pour more. "How much cream and sugar did you put in here?"

He shrugged. "I eyeballed it."

She huffed out a frustrated breath and started attempting to mix it herself. He set his own empty cup on the counter and peered over her shoulder. "Needs more milk," he commented before he turned to head toward the bedroom and the bathroom, ignoring the spoon that bounced off his back as he walked away.

By the time she followed him into the little room, he had filled the basin with warm water and lathered his face with soap. He was carefully dragging one claw along the left side of his bearded face when he heard her come up behind him. He could tell she was watching him in the mirror, even if he couldn't see her there.

"Whatcha shaving for?" she asked.

"Gotta go into town tomorrow morning to get some supplies and I'd rather not scare anyone," he explained as he swished his blade in the sink and began scraping it along his jaw again.

"Can I go with you? If you juice me up pretty well, I should be okay if we're not there for too long. I'm gettin' kinda tired of wearing your hand-me-down sweats. Some new clothes wouldn't be a bad idea."

He grunted and pulled his upper lip between his teeth as he worked on clearing that area. When he finished, his eyes flickered to where she would be in the mirror if she could cast an image. "I think we better wait on that. It's at least an hour's drive, so getting there when stuff is open and getting you back before you're extra crispy would be tough. Better to wait for the medallion for that. I can get stuff for you if you make a list though."

"I guess," she mumbled as she walked past him to perch on the edge of the tub. She stared down at her hands and mumbled, "I'll figure out what clothes I need. Some sunglasses would be nice, too, I guess."

He grunted in response and continued to shave. Jubilee continued to stare at her hands, twisting them together in her lap. After a few moments, she asked, "How do you deal with it?"

He glanced at her, but continued what he was doing, "Deal with what?"

She sighed, curling her fingers into fists. "This. Being immortal. Not ever changing."

He shrugged. "We change. It'd be nice if we didn't. I wouldn't have to waste my time doing this," he grumbled as he swished his claw in the water again.

She huffed out a frustrated breath before she snapped, "That's easy for you to say. At least you look like an adult. I'm forever stuck in the body of a seventeen-year-old!"

He paused in what he was doing to turn and look at her, his neck still covered in lather. He took a moment to study her angry expression, and then ran his eyes over her whole figure. Leaning one hip against the sink, he retracted the adamantium blade and crossed his arms across his chest. He took his time before replying, knowing her well enough to wait out the temper.

After glaring at him for a few minutes, she heaved another frustrated breath and pressed her hands firmly on the tub on either side of her, leaning forward to stare down at the tile between her bare feet.

He turned back to the sink to continue what he had been doing as he said, "I'd say you don't hafta look seventeen if ya don't want to." He ran the blade down one side of his throat before he continued, "Kitty is in her early forties, but she could look seventeen with the right makeup and clothes. The same is probably true for you if you want to look older. You just need to look at yourself a little different. Do something with yourself." He paused to glance over at her, "I guess clothes are a good start, but the reason you look so damn young is because you don't take care of yourself."

She scowled at the tiles on the floor, considering his words. She had long ago given up caring how she looked. Sighing, she said, "I guess you'll have to get me some makeup and shit too, then." When he only shrugged, she sighed and sat up straight again, watching as he finished, dried his claw, and wiped out the sink. "It's more than that though." She paused as he applied aftershave and washed and dried his hands. He turned to face her again, resting one hip against the sink. She rubbed her hands over her face. "Everyone else is getting older…" she trailed off.

He made a soft sound and nodded as her realized what she was getting at, "…and we ain't aging while they are." When she nodded, biting her bottom lip, he pressed his own lips together as he searched for the right words to say to comfort her, to reassure her. Rubbing one hand on the back of his neck as he leaned back against the door frame, he explained, "It's really tough, the first time. Hell, it's tough every time you lose someone you care about. But that's not the point. It's gonna happen whether you die at 45 or 145. You gotta switch how you're thinking about it. " He paused again and met her intense gaze. "You hafta focus on the positive, on what you can learn from each person you meet, on the good times that you have together."

She shook her head, "That is just touchy-feely bullshit. I don't see the point in wasting the time. It's wasted energy. If I didn't care, it wouldn't hurt. In the end, everyone dies. And I don't. So what if I learn? So what if I have good memories? The simple truth is that they're gone, and I'm a freak who keeps on living and never changes."

He sighed and moved to squat down in front of her so that they were on eye level. "So what?" he asked her. She blinked, confused. "So what?" he repeated, "That's all true. Everybody around us is goin' to die before we do. We don't know if we'll ever die or if we'll just be stuck here forever. So what?"

She pressed her lips together and could feel her eyes burning as she felt the urge to cry in frustration. "That's what I don't know."

He took her hands in his. "And you think I can give you the answer?" When she just sighed in response, he squeezed her hands. "All I can tell ya is that you need to find a reason. Why do you think I was part of the X Men? And the Jean Grey School? Those were my reasons, you kids were my reasons."

She swallowed, "But so many of the people we cared about are already gone. It sucked, but it was bearable when it was in the line of duty. But now, when they're gone it'll just be because they got old. And I can't do anything to stop it."

He chuckled. "Yeah, but at least they are all livin' their lives now. Havin' families, and through those families, they'll live on forever."

She stared down at their joined hands and watched as his thumbs rubbed lightly over her knuckles. She nodded mutely.

Quietly, he asked, "Is that why you came back? Because you think everyone is gonna die before you can fix things?"

She blinked up at him in surprise, shaking her head and opening her mouth to deny it, but she stopped before speaking. She sighed and bowed her head again, lost in thought. He waited for her patiently, turning her hands over to run a finger over her palms. "Maybe," she whispered when she finally spoke, "I don't know. I didn't even know what I was doing until I was halfway here. I hadn't completely made up my mind before I walked back inside last night."

He nodded and stood, pulling her to her feet with him. He wrapped his arms around her and carefully pulled her against his chest. Jubilee stood stiffly for a moment, overwhelmed by the sensation of being touched, but relaxed after a moment and rested her head against him. He lifted one hand to rub the back of her neck and promised, "That's okay. We'll figure it out together."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: Thanks everyone for your Reviews, PMs, Follows, and Favorites!

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Chapter 4:

Jubilee had been tossing and turning in bed for what seemed like forever. She finally gave up and rolled to a sitting position. She had heard Logan leave a few hours ago to head into town and hadn't been able to fall back asleep afterwards. She stretched and stood up before looking longingly back at the bed. It was so much softer than what she was used to—normally a sagging mattress on the floor of some junkie's apartment. She wished she could sleep. Pouting, she shuffled out to the living area, checking to be sure the fire didn't need more wood. She opened the refrigerator door, but nothing seemed appealing. Grumpily, she plopped down onto the couch to stare aimlessly for a while.

Idly she began to think about what it meant to be trying to get back to "normal." (As if she'd ever been normal.) She shook her head. What would she do? Stay here at the cabin? Go back to the XMen or the Jean Gray school or to Raizo? Would she strike out on her own—and if she did that, what would be the purpose behind it.

She thought about what Logan had said the night before and thought about all of the people who had been part of her life, who had had an impact on her. She pushed her hair back and sighed. She'd done nothing useful for the past few years, and she doubt any of them would be very impressed with her. In fact, she was sure they'd be disappointed.

Frustrated, she pushed off the couch and looked around the room. It was mostly empty. After a moment's thought, she pushed the couch toward the far wall and edged the table closer to the sink, creating a wide open space in the middle of the room. She had to work off some of this energy, and something she had loved before was gymnastics. Taking a deep breath, she took a couple skipping steps and attempted a simple handspring…and ended up landing hard on her side when she hit a bad angle and her wrist gave out.

Groaning, she rolled over onto her back and rubbed her shoulder. Being a vampire had certainly allowed her to remain strong, lithe, and limber, but it sure the hell hadn't helped her remain coordinated. Pushing herself into a sitting position, she made a face. Perhaps there was something to the saying "Use it or lose it." The pain had already faded from her shoulder, so she got to her feet again and looked back across the expanse of the room, taking a moment to rotate her neck and arms and to stretch the muscles in her legs. Then she tried to simple cartwheel. She managed it, even if it was a little wobbly. Grinning at the small victory, she tried to imagine what her high school gymnastics coach would say at her poor performance. She laughed out loud, imagining his pinched face scowling at her. Well, that just meant she'd have to do a lot of practicing. Feeling truly excited about something for the first time in a decade, she launched herself forward again.

* * *

Logan scowled against the bright sun as he approached the easy-to-miss turn to the cabin. It had been a rough morning, starting out with a flat tire about twenty miles from town and ending with a four figure bill at the town's only boutique. He felt crowded, as wedged as he was on the bench seat. The rest of the space on the seat and the passenger's side floor board was covered in packages. He'd made the mistake of taking Jubilee's list to one of the few stores in the small town, and handing it to the sales woman. He'd asked for "this stuff and any other essentials a lady would need" and then left. When he'd come back from hitting the grocery store, getting fuel for the truck and for the generator that powered the cabin's appliances, and a few other errands, he'd been shocked at the total at the bottom of the sales slip as well as the mountain of packages that had been already neatly wrapped and waiting for him. He'd sighed and signed the slip without comment before beginning to toss the packages into the cabin of the truck, not wanting to lose anything out of the open bed during the long drive home.

Money wasn't an issue, but it was a damned inconvenience to have all of this crap taking up space. What he had first been resigned to at the start of the drive home was now a major irritation. He opened his window and turned his head to breathe in the fresh air as he turned up what passed for a road. Everything smelled like flowers or perfume. Grumpily, he leaned down to shift the truck into four wheel drive as he bounced over rocks, occasionally getting smacked by a dislodged bag or box.

By the time he pulled up in front of the cabin, he was ready to toss the entire mess out into the snow. Taking a deep fresh of the frigid, crisp air, he reminded himself of what they really symbolized: Jubilee's return to the world of the living. He shook his head. It would be worth it, but he would never again make the mistake of handing a list over to a woman and telling her price wasn't an issue. He loaded his arms up with packages and headed toward the cabin, leaving the door open to the truck. He dumped one arm's worth of bags on the porch so that he could open the door.

As he took one step inside, he dropped the bags and lowered into a crouch, his claws sliding free in a soft SNKTT sound. It looked like a fight had taken place. Something made of brown glass was broken on one side of the room, one book shelf sat at an odd angle with its contents spilled on the floor in front of it, and the furniture was pushed haphazardly out of the way. When he spotted Jubilee sleeping quietly on the couch, he stood up in confusion. Apparently there was no danger, but what the hell had she been doing? Sighing, he picked the bags back up and took them to the bedroom, not being quiet about dumping them on the bed. When he came back out, he noticed she'd just rolled over and turned her back to him and the brightness spilling through the doorway. He grunted and made several more trips back and forth between the truck and the bedroom. When he was finished, he shut the door, mopped up the melting snow from his boots, and set them in front of the fire to warm.

He took a look around the room again and sighed before collapsing into his worn leather armchair. He'd only been gone for about six hours, and that had just been because he'd had to wait for them to refill the enormous propane tank. The room was trashed enough that it would take at least that much time to put it back to rights. Like hell he was doing it. He leaned his head back on the back of the chair, not bothering to move when he heard the squeak of couch cushions as she stirred. "It's so nice of you to wake up after I lugged in all of your new crap," he grouched.

Jubilee just yawned and stretched in response. "I've always had excellent timing," she replied before swinging around so that her feet rested on the stone floor. He just grunted, and she pushed herself to her feet and then dragged the couch back into place.

"What the hell were ya doing?" He asked, still not lifting his head or opening his eyes.

"Exercising," she said. When he grunted again, this time in question, she continued, "It's been so long since I've done anything, I thought a little practice would be a good idea. You wouldn't believe how clumsy you get when you don't keep up with things." He grunted again, this time in agreement, so she continued speaking as she moved back to the kitchen to put the table back in its proper place. "I could barely do a cartwheel when I woke up, but I'm doing some awesome things so far. I managed a couple half twists, but no aerials yet. I'll keep working."

Using vampire speed, she moved back to the book shelf to right it and reshelf the books. At the machine-gun-like sound of the books being replaced, his head popped up to watch her blurring figure as she continued cleaning up the room. When she neared the pile of broken glass, she veered away from it to head to the fridge, pulling out a beer and bringing it to him. She peeled off the cap with a fang before handing it to him.

He raised an eyebrow, "Trying to bribe me for breaking my stuff?"

She grinned and then tried to look sheepish, "I'm sorry. It really was an accident."

He grunted again and took a long drink before asking, "What was it?"

She made a face, "Some ugly statue of a naked pregnant lady."

He chuckled, "I won't tell 'Ro you said that. It was some African goddess." When she looked horrified, he amended, "If you broke anything, I'm glad it was that." He took another drink and pretended to shudder, "The thing was just downright disturbing." He grinned at her and pointed the bottle in her direction, "And you don't be telling her I said that."

She smiled and moved to get a broom to clean it up. As she found a small dustpan under the sink, she promised, "It will be our secret. How was town?" As she cleaned up the mess and dumped the shards in the trash, he scowled and began to relay his trip. Once he mentioned the packages, she quickly moved into the bedroom and squealed in delight. He felt his mouth stretch into a wide grin, thinking the long, cramped, smelly ride had definitely been worth it.

"I can't believe how much you bought!" She yelled over the sound of crunching bags and tearing paper.

He finished off the beer and stood to retrieve another, "I told ya the lady picked it all out. If I'd done it myself, you'd probably only have what was on the list." She started laughing, and he turned to glance through the doorway as he flipped off the cap with a claw. "What's so funny?" he asked as he peered into the room and promptly turned a shade of red.

Jubilee held up a fuchsia colored teddy with dangling garter straps. "Yeah," she said between giggles, "I think it's pretty clear you didn't do the shopping."

He composed himself and shook his head at her, not even sure where to start with a response to that. Instead, he said, "I'm gonna go finish unloadin' my truck while you play dress up."

She smiled and turned away to continue digging through the clothing on the bed. "Sounds good," she said, already forgetting about him and lost in the excitement of the new items. There was nothing like piles and piles of clothes with tags still on them to make a mall rat happy.

As he went outside, he was still chuckling.

* * *

Hours later, after Jubilee had gone through all of the clothes and had dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a loose light blue poncho top, complete with matching blue socks (with little yellow ducks on them), they sat together, watching the fire. Logan had just finished a meal of fresh steak and was rolling a toothpick around his mouth as he half-reclined on the couch. He looked meaningfully at her feet and commented, "It seems like the lady who got yer clothes together couldn't decide if you were ten or thirty between them and the lingerie."

Jubilee snorted from her spot in the leather armchair and held one foot up in the air, wiggling her toes. "I think they're adorable," she paused and wiggled her eyebrows at him, "and sexy of course. Or do you think they make me look seventeen?" She blinked lashes coated in mascara at him.

He grinned and pretended to give her a once over. She had applied makeup and styled her hair into soft curls. Finally, he rolled the toothpick to the other side of his mouth and grunted, "No. At least twenty-three today. Could be older depending on the makeup."

She grinned and put her foot back down, turning back to enjoy the heat of the flames. The quiet was comfortable. Logan reached up to use the toothpick on a particularly stubborn piece of meat stuck in his tooth when he noticed that Jubilee wasn't looking at the fire anymore, but instead she was staring at him. He raised an eyebrow, and when she didn't respond, he snapped a finger in her direction.

She jumped as if startled and blinked her eyes a few times. He raised a dark eyebrow again, "What's up, kid?"

She shook her head and turned her gaze back to the fire. He shrugged and grunted, working the toothpick again. He freed the piece of meat and spat it and the toothpick toward the fire. Again, he felt the weight of her gaze on him. He glanced in her direction and noticed she was staring fixedly at him again. He narrowed his eyes, tracing her line of sight to his neck in particular. Releasing an annoyed sigh, he asked, "You hungry or somethin'? All ya gotta do is speak up."

She jumped guiltily again and blinked her eyes a few times. She rubbed her palms against her denim-clad thighs as if her palms were sweaty. She swallowed a few times before saying, "Yeah. I guess I am."

When she didn't move and just stared down at her knees, he prompted her. "You were looking at my neck. Any reason?"

She was quiet for a moment and then shook her head, "Not really."

"It better that way or somethin'?" he asked.

She nodded. He just grunted and waited a few beats before asking, "Why?"

She rubbed at her throat unconsciously. She swallowed again as if her throat was dry before speaking, "It's warmer there, since it's so close to the heart. And it is easier to drink. I mean, it rushes out. You can enjoy the taste more than focusing on sucking." Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips. Her gaze rose from her knees to dart in his direction, obviously judging his reaction.

He shrugged and grunted again. There were a few minutes of silence as he considered her words. They he asked, "So why do you always go for the wrist?"

It was her turn to shrug before she paused to think, "I guess it just seems safer that way. And it's a habit. It's always been from a cup or the wrist. The neck…I could lose control."

He grunted again, "Well, at least you don't have to worry about that with me. You could use my neck for a chew toy and it'd heal."

She nodded, and without meaning to, began to watch the slight movement of the skin on his neck that matched his pulse. When she realized what she was doing, she looked away and cleared her throat. She clasped her hands in her lap and explained, "I'm feeling pretty hungry. I think because I used so much energy today. First getting lots of exercise, and then all the excitement with the clothes." She shook her head and smiled wryly, "Plus, I guess I'm getting spoiled. I've not fed this well for years."

He nodded and patted the couch next to him, "Well, dinner's ready."

She tried not to move toward him too eagerly, forcing herself to take her time standing up and to sedately walk toward the couch rather than leap from one place to the other. She sat down next to him and took his arm, her finger running along the blood vessel that showed through the skin.

Logan rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away. He tapped his neck with a finger. "Go ahead," he said in a bored voice, "I don't mind."

She blinked at him for a moment and licked her lips again. "Really?"

He nodded and slid his arm along the back of the couch so that she could kneel next to him. When she was positioned, he felt her fingers tentatively stroke along his neck. He tilted his head back to give her more room, expecting the normal strike of pain. When she struck, it was completely different. The pain was intense at first, but it was so closely followed by a delicious warmth that seemed to spread through his body that he barely registered the pain. He gasped in surprise as a spurt of pleasure flowed after the warmth. This didn't hurt at all; in fact, it felt nice, more than nice. Raw pleasure spilled throughout his body as his brain spun out of control, and he closed his eyes as images assaulted him.

_He could see the unconscious form of a man below him, and looked down to see thin fingers painted in a chipped purple polish coated in blood. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked them, feeling a shudder coursing through his body in response. The taste was heavenly….The next image was of trees rushing by. He could feel branches and brambles tearing at him, but he kept running almost as if he were running for his life…. Next, he stumbled out of the woods, a beautiful clearing in front of him, a small cabin located at its center. The front door was open, light spilling out to silhouette the form of a man, of safety…._

When he opened his eyes again, he realized that Jubilee had straddled his lap for a better angle and that he'd wrapped his arms around her. One of her hands was fisted in his hair, holding his head stationary; the other was clutching his shoulder tightly. Her thighs were pressed tightly around him as she unconsciously rubbed her body against his. He drew in a hissing breath as she bit again, harder this time, and he felt his body jerk in response to the dark pleasure that spiraled from her mouth to the rest of his body. Of their own accord, his hands traced down her back to her hips to press her more tightly against the part of him that was throbbing in time with his pulse. He heard her moan in his ear and bite down again. His fingers tightened on her hips, and he felt her begin to move them in a small circle against him. When he let out a groan, she suddenly sat upright, her red eyes wide. She had blood dripping down her chin onto the front of her new shirt.

She blinked at him in shock then glanced down to where she was sitting on his lap, he watched her facial expression go from surprise to embarrassment when she realized just how intimate the position was. She sprang from his lap so quickly, that one of her feet got caught on the couch and she toppled backward to the floor. Before he could offer to help her, she had sprung to her feet and backed a few steps away.

"Jubilee…" he began, but she interrupted him.

"Well, I'm bushed. Hate to eat and run, but…I'm gonna hit the sack. Night." With that, she turned and dashed to the bedroom, slamming the door closed behind her.

He let his head fall back against the couch, realizing his heart rate was accelerated and his breath was coming quickly. Slowly, he rolled his head to look at the door that had just closed. What the hell had just happened?


	5. Chapter 5

I apologize for getting this out a few days late and that it's a bit shorter than normal. Life has been crazy, and I've fallen behind on my writing. I've set aside some time to catch back up, so you can expect me to return to my normal schedule of posting on Wednesday or Thursday.

In response to the question about what type of beer Logan drinks-it's a label from a small, craft brewery, so it'd require a bottle opener. He and Jubilee of course have other ways of opening a sealed bottle!

Thank you everyone who has been reading! I've enjoyed the reviews and the people who are continuing to follow and favorite this story. Please keep sharing your feedback as it really does make me think about where the story will go next.

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Chapter 5

After slamming the door, Jubilee leaned back against it, closing her eyes. Her body felt deliciously alive in a way that it hadn't for years. Every nerve ending crackled as if it were connected to an electric line. She rubbed her hands along her arms, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regain control. She wanted to turn around and go back out there, to sink her teeth into him again, to tear off his shirt before… She cut off the train of thought as her eyes snapped open. _Whoa_. Where was she going with that thought? He was her best friend, had been a father figure to her for most of her life. Wasn't it weird to think of him like that?

She was startled when he knocked on the door behind her head. She had been so distracted, she hadn't heard him get up and approach the door. "Open up, Jubilee. We might as well talk about this instead of hiding from each other."

She stood there, paralyzed by indecision for a moment before she realized he wasn't going to go away. _Stubborn,_ she thought. Taking a deep breath, she stepped away from the door and pulled it open. He seemed perfectly composed, but she could hear how quickly his heart was still beating. He wasn't unaffected by the exchange either. His eyes flicked from her to the bed that was still strewn with her new clothes. He shook his head at himself and murmured, "I'm just going to grab a new shirt."

She nodded and stepped back deeper into the room so he could enter. It was then that she noticed that the collar of his shirt was stained with blood, and there was drying blood on his neck. She lifted a hand to her mouth, feeling tell-tale wetness there as well. She slid past him into the bathroom to splash water on her face. Well, besides having some intense effects, feeding from the neck seemed to be a lot messier as well. When she peeked back into the bedroom, it was empty, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She took a few more moments to run a brush through her hair, checked her make up, and changed into a camisole not stained by blood. When she was ready, she dawdled a few more moments in the room, trying to think of any other reasons to delay facing him. Realizing there was nothing left to distract herself with, she headed out the bedroom door.

When she went back out into the main room, he was standing at the sink wearing a plain black tee shirt. She watched the movement of his throat as he drank a glass of water. She moved to sit in the corner of the couch, tugging the throw from the back of the couch over her body, clear up to her chin. She wasn't cold, but she didn't want him to see the nervous twisting of her fingers.

When he finished drinking, he moved to the living room area and sat in the overstuffed armchair, looking at her for a moment before clearing his throat and shifting in his seat. "So, ah, have you ever done that before?" There was an awkward moment of silence before he clarified, "From the neck I mean? You said it was better but didn't mention that this…"

She shrugged and shifted her gaze to the fire. It would need another log thrown on it soon. She moistened her lips, trying to ignore the power and energy still coursing through her body, only fueling the other feelings that were still stirring. "Yeah," she said before clearing her own throat. "With Xarus, and once with Laura." When he raised an eyebrow in clear surprise, she explained. "It was just a drop with Laura, I never bit her. And with Xarus…" she trailed off. "That was just a confusing mess from the beginning." She closed her eyes, not wanting to think of that time—when she had sunk to her lowest level and had first embraced the power, the darkness, that had been coursing through her. She had wanted to hurt people then, to use them to get what she had wanted. Images of blood, of naked, writhing forms, of pleas for mercy flashed through her brain, and she shook her head as if to clear the images away. She had tried to make him come with her into that darkness, had succeeded at first.

He waited patiently for her to fight her inner demons. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She pulled her knees to her chest, tugged the blanket higher over her body, and opened her eyes to look at him, her expression unreadable. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have crawled onto you like that. I didn't even realize what I was doing…."

He shook his head and shrugged, trying to make light of the incident. "It's no big deal. I mean we're both adults," He paused to rub at the back of his neck, "I'm sure it was just a natural response for being in that type of position."

Jubilee rested her forehead against her knees again, feeling a wave of delicious heat rush through her body at the memory of just how intimate that position had been. When she raised her head, he was tactfully looking in another direction.

She cleared her throat, "Yeah. No big deal," She repeated. "No harm done." There was a long period of silence that felt more awkward than restful, so she tossed the blanket off of her and stood to toss a couple more pieces of wood on the fire. As she watched the fresh wood catch, she brushed off her hands on her thighs before crossing her arms under her breasts. She didn't return to her seat. She quickly realized that if she remained where she was standing, she could avoid looking at him. She still felt awkward, mostly because her body hadn't quite calmed down yet. It was still reacting to him, partly in memory and partly due to his continued nearness. For the first time after a feeding, she felt more awake and alive than full and sluggish. Deciding to change the subject, she asked, "So have you tried to get one of the sun benders yet?"

His responding grunt ascended in tone before he spoke, "Haven't heard anything back yet. I contacted a few different contacts, hoping someone would run across it."

"Anyone I know?" she asked, not turning around yet.

"A couple," he replied, "And a couple I doubt you've met. If anyone comes through, I'd put my money on Laura though." He paused to watch her reaction, noting that her back and shoulders stiffened. He let the silence ride for a few moments, trying to focus on the conversation and not get caught up in how the firelight played across her features, making her look older and more mysterious.

"Why?" she asked.

He leaned back in the seat and propped his feet on the coffee table. "Well, she spent so much time with Gumbo that she's learned more than a little about theivin'." He chuckled and went on, "With her fighting and assassin skills added in, she's been running all over treasure huntin' like some sorta Indiana Jones."

Jubilee's lips quirked up at the thought, but she didn't respond. Encouraged by the smile, he continued, "Gambit goes on the occasional mission with her, but he's more on the back end of things now. Just too old to handle the rougher stuff. Mostly she gets jobs from rich collectors or museums and such. Last I heard, she was in Antarctica looking for something. It's keeping her busy, and from what I can tell she's enjoying it."

She nodded, "I'm glad to hear it, and to hear that Remy's well."

He nodded again and fell silent while he considered. Obviously, she was interested. She was standing very still, not even breathing, but her head was cocked in his direction, almost as if she were waiting for him to continue. He spent the next few hours casually passing on what was going on with all of their mutual acquaintances: marriages, children, job changes. The entire time, she stood without speaking, turned partially away from him. After a time, she moved to open the window and to lean out into the chilly night air, but he could tell from her posture and an occasional soft sound of inquiry that she was listening.

When he couldn't think of anything else to share, he fell silent and just watched her profile as she looked out into the night. Finally, she stood and turned to look at him. When she spoke, it was as if she hadn't heard anything he had said in the past hours. "It's getting late, and we should turn in soon if you still insist on waking me up during the daylight hours, but I'm not tired yet. Do you want to go for a run?"

He began to stand, but before he could fully straighten, she had already disappeared out of the window. With a sigh, he pulled on his boots, realizing that she had taken off running barefooted. He he laced his boots and grabbed a jacket before he stepped outside. She was waiting for him at the edge of the woods. Picking up her boots and parka, he pulled the door closed after him and jogged down the porch stairs and across the clearing to her. He held out the clothing as he approached.

She took them and bent to slip the boots onto her feet. Once they were laced up, she looked at him, her expression showing her clear discomfort. "I just couldn't be inside any longer…" she began and then trailed off as if unsure of what to say.

"I get it," he said as he started off at a light trot, "Let's go."


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Thanks again for the continued support! Thanks to Amy Hunt, Beezzi, Cronus100, Fat ppl are harder to kidnap (lol), growlscout, and poegrrll for favoriting this story. Thanks also go to Canucklehead Cowgirl, MrMoaksy, and Wynterheart for following.

Growlscout—thanks so much for pointing out the inconsistency in the previous chapter. You're absolutely right that she does bite Logan on the neck when she changes him over (thanks to those little nanobots, he doesn't stay that way). I'll try to address this in a future chapter.

This is one of my favorite chapters from the story so far. I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

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Chapter 6:

They spent the next week following a simple routine: waking up just a little earlier each day, spending their time sparring inside or outside, taking leisurely runs through the forest, and doing chores like lugging water from the pond to refill the house's tanks or chopping firewood. Every morning and evening, Jubilee would drink Logan's blood out of a ceramic mug.

In the hours before they went to sleep, they read or reminisced about missions and people from their pasts. As the day that marked the third week of her visit neared, Logan was relieved to see none of the normal signs of discontent that would signal her preparation to leave. There had been some dark moments where she'd reverted to her moody self or went off by herself for hours in the forest, but she'd always come back. She was definitely improving, and he'd found that she had begun to laugh more and take a part in telling some stories. Where he had first done most of the talking, it now seemed as if they were truly dialoguing as they relived some of their more amusing mishaps. Now she was the one starting conversations and even revisiting moments from their former lives.

Neither of them mentioned what had happened the previous week, though there were occasionally tense moments when they bumped into each other in the small bathroom or when their bodies were locked together in combat. Those instances were never mentioned, despite Logan's initial comments about not avoiding the subject.

Time and time again, Logan had caught himself looking at her in a different way, whether it was noting how certain falls of light cast deep shadows in her cheekbones to give her a regal quality or admiring the way some of her new clothes outlined her softly curved body. He dreamed of her, and although he didn't always recall the dreams, he woke covered in sweat, his body hard and ready. He struggled with the new attraction to her that was so different from any of the feelings he'd had for her in the past. It seemed foreign, and he felt guilty, almost as though he were taking advantage of her in some way.

Tonight, he'd opted to run on his own, telling her he'd be back later. He pushed his body to the limit as he crashed through the underbrush, ignoring when his sweatshirt snagged on a skeletal tree branch or bush. He had to come to terms with his emotions, he'd realized the night before when he'd found himself standing outside the bedroom door, fighting the urge to take action on some of the fantasies he'd been having about her.

He began to run faster, fighting through snow drifts that were topped with fresh powder from the previous night's storm. _Get over it_, he lectured himself, _she thinks of you like a father._ He startled a rabbit that had been hiding in the underbrush, and for the fun of it, he gave chase, following the bobbing white tail ahead of him.

But did she? Wasn't that the larger issue he'd been dealing with for over two decades? She wasn't the same girl that had saved him from crucifixion or even the girl who had lost her mutant powers. She was a completely different woman now. A woman he wasn't sure he knew, understood, or could read.

He lost interest in the rabbit when he scented a pack of wild wolves off to his left. He veered toward them instead, figuring they'd give him more challenge and might provide a welcome distraction.

She was different, he had to admit to himself. He was beginning to learn more and more about the new woman she was. Their conversations had been deeper, and she'd commented on things that had happened in their past in a new way, a more mature way. She didn't focus on the excitement and adventure that had captivated her as a teen. Now she talked more about the larger issues around what they had been fighting for, holding her own in philosophical debates about good and evil and the mutant cause.

He could hear the yipping ahead of him and realized he was close. He released his adamantium claws in preparation, fighting the inner voice that tried to argue that perhaps she didn't view him as a father figure any longer. There had been a few times where he'd thought he had caught her looking at him in a different way as well. Once had been when she'd joined him while he'd been shaving. He'd not had a shirt on at the time since he'd just finished showering. He argued with himself, knowing it had to have been his imagination, but he could have sworn her gaze had clung to the muscles of his chest and stomach longer than was appropriate. And when he'd bent to lug firewood into the house, he'd turned in time to catch her admiring his backside before she'd flushed red and dashed back into the cabin.

It had to be his imagination, he argued with himself. If it was anything, it was the fact that they'd both been alone together in the wild for almost three weeks. He groaned in frustration, flexing his fingers as he ran harder. If he wanted to stay sane, he was going to have to take a trip into town to see one of the women he had built casual relationships with over the years. Perhaps that would clear out these intense emotions and direct them in a more acceptable direction. When he heard distant footfalls, human footfalls, he slowed, realizing someone was pursuing him. No one would be out on the mountain unless they were looking for him. He stopped running as he realized that wasn't the truth any longer. Whoever was here could also be looking for Jubilee.

He stopped, turning and dropping into a crouch as the sounds came closer. He widened his stance and braced himself, his arms spread wide in preparation of a fight. When he caught her scent, he relaxed his stance and withdrew his claws. As he watched Jubilee jog into sight, he sighed, "I thought you were stayin' back at the-" He was cut off in mid-sentence as she launched herself at him feet-first, easily toppling him over into the snow since she'd caught him off guard.

He didn't stay down for long, easily rolling in an attempt to pin her beneath him. Somehow she managed to draw her knees into her chest, and with a thrust of her legs, she sent him flying off of her. He flipped in the air and landed on his feet as she rolled to hers as well. She had a wide grin on her face, white flakes clinging to her body, hair, and even her eyelashes from their tussle in the snow.

He feinted to the left before diving to the right, his claws unsheathed now. She didn't fall for the maneuver and instead ducked beneath him to flip him over her head. He used the momentum to catch a tree branch and swing up a few yards onto a higher branch. She laughed in pleasure but didn't attempt to follow him up. Instead, she took up a defensive stance and waited for him to continue to take the offensive.

He crouched on the thin branch, one hand resting lightly against the bark to help him maintain balance. "Get lonely back there all by yourself?" He asked as he caught his breath.

She grinned up at him and shrugged, watching him for a few moments before growing bored and rushing forward to slam hard into the trunk of the tree, sending tremors along its length. She succeeded in causing him to lose his balance, but she was disoriented when a heavy shower of snow fell from the higher branches to bog her down and obscure her vision. He was able to catch a limb as he fell and swing himself toward the trunk where he sunk his claws in deep to slow his slide back to the ground.

He used the moments where she was trying to struggle out of the deep snow to launch himself at her, claws first. He was able to drive her deeper into the snow and pinned her to the ground, his claws slicing through her shoulders and upper arms and into the frozen earth beneath her. She wasn't so easily beaten though. When she realized she couldn't move her arms since they were literally pinned down, she twisted and turned beneath him, trying to get her legs into position so that she could kick him off her. In response, he twisted the claws into her shoulders until he heard her grunt with pain. When she still struggled, he lowered his body more fully onto hers, trapping her legs with his own.

When she stopped moving and swore, he grinned down at her, "You know the rules," he taunted, "Say 'Uncle'."

She said something quite unflattering about his character, and when he only just laughed and shimmied his shoulders so that more snow fell down onto her face, she mumbled the word quietly.

"What was that?" he teased, "I must be getting hard of hearing in my old age."

"You lousy, no good…" she trailed off and lifted her face to yell "Uncle!" in his face, her red eyes sparkling in anger.

He laughed and released her. He got to his feet and offered her a hand. He was only half-surprised when she swept a leg under his to knock him back into the snow. He continued laughing and looked in her direction. He couldn't see her until he pushed the white, fluffy mounds out of the way, revealing her self-satisfied smirk. "You are such a sore loser," he complained.

She made a derogatory sound and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and you're not?" she asked, "I recall you serving me a mug of blood with a healthy dose of _salt_ in it when I trounced you a few days ago."

He laughed at the memory of her expression when she drank and pushed himself into a sitting position, shaking his head to try to knock some of the snow off of himself. "All's fair in love and war," he quipped as he got to his feet again.

This time, she accepted his hand and tried to brush some of the snow off of her shoulders and arms. After a moment of just spreading it along her clothes instead, she laughed, giving up the sour-grapes act. Still chuckling, she said, "You should have seen your face when I came running up to you. It sure took you long enough to realize I was behind you. I wasn't even running at full vamp speed. What were you thinking about to be so distracted?"

He shrugged, definitely not wanting to share those thoughts with her. Instead, he just started off at a light jog back toward the cabin, "I dunno, but now I'm cold and wet. First one back to the cabin gets the hot shower first."

* * *

Thanks to the advantage of vampire speed, Jubilee won the race. In fact, she was almost finished in the steamy bathroom when she heard him stomping the snow from his boots on the front porch. She slipped out of the shower and into a silky-smooth robe decorated with a peacock feather design. She was towel drying her hair as she walked back out into the bedroom and he walked in. He stopped for a moment at the door, and she paused in rubbing her hair dry as she felt his gaze rake over her form, pausing at the places where the robe clung to her still-damp body. The moment was over so quickly, she could have sworn she imagined it.

In the next instant, he was gesturing to the pile of her wet, bloody clothes. "Shoulders heal okay?" he asked.

She nodded and rotated one arm, "Yep. It was all healed up before I was even back home."

He nodded and slipped past her into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. She brushed her wet hair back into a ponytail and pulled on one of the pajama outfits the boutique owner had so helpfully supplied. It was peach cotton and satin. The bottoms where shorts edged with lace, and the top was a tank with an empire-waist seam so that it billowed beneath her breasts.

Had she imagined his gaze lingering at her breasts? She gazed at the mirror in front of her that only reflected the room behind her. Possibly. More than likely it was just wishful thinking. Since that night… she sighed. She'd been thinking of him a lot, dreaming of him, watching him in ways that was in no way acceptable based on the history of their relationship. Annoyed with herself for going down that path again, she turned away from the looking glass. She had been trying to talk herself out of her attraction to him for over a week but was coming to the conclusion that it was no use.

She heard the shower turn off as she entered the large main room. She curled up in the corner of the couch and picked up the book she'd been reading. He emerged from the room in a pair of navy sweat pants, the towel still hanging around his neck and over his bare chest. He headed for the fridge for the beer she knew he enjoyed after a good spar. She pretended to focus on the book, but instead took advantage of his back being turned to let her gaze linger on his muscled back and backside. Her fingers tightened on the book and she bit down on her bottom lip. When he turned, she forced her gaze back to the text in front of her. She didn't know how she'd spent so many years in his company, so often in states of undress such as this, and had never noticed just what a fantastic body he had.

He collapsed onto the couch next to her and took a long drink before setting the beer down on the table. He rotated his head a few times to stretch his neck before lifting the towel to rub against his blue-black hair, causing it to stick up around his head. She smiled and glanced back down at the text attempting to reread the same paragraph she'd been on since he'd come into the room. From the corner of her eye, she watched as he finger-combed it into some semblance of order and opened the carved box on the table to pull out a cigar. He cut the end off, tossing it into the fire as he stood and headed to the kitchen. He lit one of the burners on the stove and bent to light the cigar before flicking the range off and returning to the sofa.

She dropped the book in her lap, giving up the ruse of reading. He raised an eyebrow as he puffed on the cigar, tugging the towel from around his neck and tossing it in the general direction of the washer/dryer combo that was in a closet off the kitchen. She grinned, feeling playful and relaxed. "Don't you know that smoking's bad for your health?" she asked.

He grunted and puffed again, blowing a stream of smoke in her direction. "Yeah," he responded, "but everyone's go their vices, right?" He paused, a devilish gleam in his eyes, "At least I don't drink blood."

She laughed in response, "So you're trying to tell me that blood is worse than beer and cigars?"

He nodded with mock seriousness and then took another drink and another drag from the cigar as if to prove his point. She  
grinned and pushed herself to her knees, moving closer to him. "Well, if you are indulging your vices, then it's only fair that I do as well."

When he shrugged, she took the opportunity presented to her. She took the cigar from his hand and set it in an ashtray. She paused in the act of bringing that wrist to her mouth. After making a split-second decision, she placed his arm on the back of the couch and moved closer to him, kneeling close to his side. When he met her gaze, she couldn't read what was in his dark eyes. When he spoke, his voice was low and husky, "Tryin' again?"

She held his gaze and nodded, letting one finger stroke the rapidly increasing pulse at his neck. She wasn't sure how he would react, but she felt nervous, excited tension begin to course through her body. Not breaking her gaze, he carefully leaned forward to set his beer on the table and then leaned back against the cushions. The way he deliberately held her gaze and moved slowly, allowed her to realize that they both knew what they were getting into. He was giving her a chance to change her mind and back down. Very slowly and purposefully, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Happy March 1! I decided to give you an extra chapter this week (I'll have another up on Weds. or stay on track) for two reasons. **

**1. I'm dying to get some more feedback from you all**

**2. I've put up a poll on my profile concerning where I go next with the story, and I want to get some feedback so I can continue writing (more on this in the AN at the end of the chapter). Please take the time to answer it.**

**Warning: this is definitely an M chapter. Read at your own risk. ****So where we left off...**

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Chapter 7

Jubilee let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, allowing her focus to shift to the sound of his heart beating quickly and the rushing of the blood through his veins. She could feel the light, fast throbbing beneath her finger and leaned forward. She let her fangs graze the sensitive point without piercing the skin, and she felt a shudder run through him. His arms slid around her, urging her to straddle him as she had the first time, and she went easily, feeling the heat from his body seep into hers. Yes, it would make more sense this way. Much more comfortable. Her breath came faster in anticipation of the bite, and she could feel his pulse jump against her lips.

When she sunk her fangs into his neck and tasted the delicious surge of his blood, she didn't fight the feelings that washed over her. Instead, she moaned, her hands moving to fist in his hair as images assaulted her. The last time she'd fed this way with him, she'd seen images of herself as she had been when they first met: young and carefree, mouthing off, laughing, and smiling up at him. Now, that girl wasn't present in his more recent thoughts. He was only thinking of her as she had been since arriving this time: sleeping on her stomach in his bed, reading a book on the floor in front of the fireplace, standing in her robe in the dim light of the kitchen, her body clearly silhouetted beneath the thin silk, and finally, standing in the bedroom only moments before, the silky robe clinging to her body while her skin was still flushed from the heat of the shower. It gave her a small thrill to know he was finally seeing her for who she was.

The desire rushed through her, and she honestly didn't take the time to wonder whether it was originating from her or from him. When the wound closed due to his healing factor, she bit him again and tightened her fingers at the base of his neck. This time when he moaned in response, she didn't pull away but allowed her tongue to trace over the puncture marks. She could feel his hands tracing up her back, one of them lifting the soft material of her top so that his fingers brushed against the bare skin beneath. Was that an accident? It didn't matter; it was her turn to feel a shiver run through her body, and she tightened her thighs around his hips, pushing down while he pressed up against her. The fire between them sprang up immediately, almost as if they were picking up where they had left off over a week ago. As his fingers danced along her skin, she moaned against his neck and allowed one hand to travel down to stroke through the springy hair of his chest.

_Oh God_, her mind could barely put together the words as she ground her hips down against his. She had been wanting this, literally dreaming about it. Was it really happening? It was so intense. So hot. When his hand slid around to cup her breast, she bit down harder and another loud moan escaped her throat. She arched her back to press her breast more firmly into his hand. Her body had never felt so alive and needy at the same time. _Now_, she thought,_ Yes. Now._

His other hand moved up to fist in the back of her hair, and he pressed her mouth more firmly against his neck. She bit again, and he bucked his hips hard up against her. She could feel his pleasure almost as clearly as she could feel her own at the movement. She twisted her hips, moving in long, slow circles. He responded by moving his hand back down her side to fist in the material of her pajama bottoms, guiding her into a faster pace.

She could hear his breath gasping in her ear, could feel the palm of his hand tracing up and down the length of her spine, and could feel the rush of his blood into her mouth. This time, when the wound closed, she didn't bite again. She let her lips trail along his neck and jaw until her lips found his. His hand moved up her back again to her neck and then to her hair, tightening and twisting so that he took control of the kiss, tilting her head so that his mouth could slant over hers. She slid her hands to his shoulders, her fingers biting in as she felt the heat building in her. She rubbed her hips against his, the friction building through the cotton and satin that separated them. Moaning, she moved faster, pressed harder against him. She gasped in the air he breathed out and bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood just as her climax hit her. She felt his body tense under hers and heard him give a short shout as well, but she was so lost in her own pleasure that it sounded as if he were far away. She collapsed against him, her face resting on his shoulder.

Slowly, his grip loosened in her hair, and he glided his hand up and down her back. She could feel his heart beating fast against her chest and could feel his breath brush against her cheek. For just a moment, she focused on the deep, liquid pleasure that still spread throughout her body, enjoying the feel of his fingers against the nape of her neck and his arms wrapped around her. She held very still, fighting against the return of reality.

But the moment could only last so long. She realized the moment he realized what they had done when she felt a slight tensing of the muscles in his body. His hand paused, but only for a second before it began stroking her skin again. But the moment was broken. Now they had to face what had just happened. She pulled back to look at him. There was blood smeared on his face and neck and some had dripped down onto his chest. She looked away from him down at herself, noticing that there were smears of blood on her top and that one shoulder had been ripped free so that the strap hung haphazardly. She lifted a hand to hold her top in place and carefully stood up. No. She didn't want to face this, not right now in any case. Awkwardly, she mumbled goodnight and hurried to the bedroom, letting the door click shut behind her quietly.

She quickly changed into a heavy flannel nightgown, leaving her clothing where they dropped. Blessedly, her mind remained blank and numb as she washed her face and neck and then moved back to the bed. Sitting, she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She watched the door, listening for sounds from the other room, which had been ominously silent as she had tidied herself. Mentally, she urged him to come after her, to break the awkward tension as he had the last time.

She leaned forward so that her forehead rested on her knees and closed her eyes. Why had she just stood up and run away? She could have cracked a joke or said something witty. She could have kissed him again to see how he would respond. Instead, she'd just stared at him and then walked away, only increasing the awkwardness. She remained in that position for several minutes, not moving or breathing, just listening for sounds of movement.

Several minutes later, the sounds came. She heard him shift and stand up, could hear water running in the kitchen as he splashed water on his face, likely removing the blood, and then he approached the door. Her head snapped up so that she could gaze at the door. She waited, could hear his heart beating, could hear him breathing on the other side of the door. He stood there for a few long moments before he knocked softly. She had to remind herself to draw breath to call a soft, "Come in." Hope sparked in her chest, and she tried to keep it from showing on her face. He'd make it all right now. He always did. He'd laugh and tell her that it had meant as much to him as it had to her, that he'd been glad it had happened. That he didn't think it was weird that she had come onto him like that.

He waited a beat before pushing open the door. He seemed hesitant to come in and explained, "I just need a change of clothes." She nodded, and he moved to the bureau to retrieve another pair of sweats and a tee shirt before turning back to the door. He stepped through the portal, and she felt her heart sink until he paused, one hand on the knob. He looked back over his shoulder at her, though he did not meet her eyes, "Listen, kid." He paused to search for words, "I'm sorry. I know you're already dealing with a lot of stuff, and…." He trailed off, waited another moment, repeated "I'm sorry," and closed the door after him.

Slowly, Jubilee laid straight back on the bed, not caring that she was stretched diagonally across it at an odd angle. She folded her hands on her chest and stared sightlessly at the ceiling. He was sorry? How terrible was that? She placed her hand over her silent heart. Really, what had she expected? He had never denied her anything, so why would he deny her feeding in that way? Yes, he'd always cared for her. They had always been a family, and now…. Now he was sorry. She had clearly crossed a line.

She rolled onto her side, pulling her knees to her chest again. Had she messed it all up? The few moments he'd been in the room had been so awkward and tension-filled. She couldn't imagine what tomorrow morning would be like. She squeezed her eyes closed against the idea that he might apologize again, that he might try to take responsibility for this, and that he'd say…that he regretted it. She clenched her jaw against the sob that wanted to burst free. No. She wouldn't cry because he'd hear her, and it'd only make things worse.

He'd never ask her to leave, she knew that. He was too loyal, though she wasn't sure who he was being loyal to. Himself? To the girl she used to be? That had to be it, she decided. Yes, they'd been a family, and he was loyal to the girl who had been like a daughter to him, not to the woman she was now. He was just now coming to realize the difference between the two. The old Jubilee never would have climbed into his lap, kissed him, ground against him until…. She hugged her knees more tightly. She wasn't the same girl that he loved anymore. She couldn't be, she realized. She wasn't even human, or mutant, for that matter. She was something altogether different. She was dead.

She knew what she had to do. She had to go. This time though, it wouldn't selfishly be for her. It would be for him. She would stop taking advantage of his kindness and willingness to put his life on hold for her. She could still try to make a go of it on her own. She could find someplace quiet with lots of wildlife to sustain herself on. It wasn't as if his blood was the only way for her to get clean. It was just the easiest route. Maybe taking the easy way out wasn't the best option anyway. It wasn't like she could expect him to stay with her in this little cabin forever. He'd want to return to real life at some point.

_He was sorry. _The words echoed in her mind. He would want to return to real life at some point, and that life hadn't included her for years. That had been her decision, not his. She'd cut him out, only returning to interrupt his life when she felt desperate. She'd used him as a crutch for years, had taken and taken and taken from him. She'd never given him anything back. So why wouldn't he be sorry that she'd used him again? Especially when she'd used him in such an intimate way.

Her eyes snapped open, and she made up her mind. She looked at the readout on the bedside clock: 2:37 a.m. If he fell asleep soon, that'd give her a few hours of travel time before she had to go to ground for the daylight hours. Since she was full of his blood, she could probably push through an additional hour of sunlight without causing too much damage. She glanced toward the door and listened. He wasn't asleep yet. His breathing wasn't regular enough, and he was tossing and turning on the couch. He was probably having a hard time sleeping as he tried to figure out what to do about her.

She would save him from that awkwardness. She'd fix this mess and disappear. Maybe once she'd rebuilt her life, she'd seek him out again. She'd apologize for all of the times she'd intruded and find a way to thank him, to make up for all of this. Then, maybe they could start over on fresh ground. She stayed curled in a ball, watching the minutes tick by on the clock, and waiting for him to fall into sleep.

* * *

When the latch on the door clicked shut, Logan woke from his fitful sleep. He pushed himself into a sitting position, but she was already gone, using all of the speed at her disposal to disappear. He knew he'd never catch her tonight. A glance at the clock showed it was 3:57. Good. That meant she couldn't run for very long before the sun drove her to find shelter. He moved into the bedroom to dress in warmer clothes, splashing icy water on his face in the tiny bathroom to clear the last cobwebs of sleep from his mind. In the kitchen, he threw some supplies into a bag and moved to lace up his boots. He dressed for the cold temperatures, the thermometer on the porch reading negative 9 degrees. He banked the fire and glanced around to make sure there wasn't anything else he'd need. Then, he stepped outside and set off at a leisurely jog.

He didn't hurry, still torn up inside about her leaving. He had begun to really believe that she wouldn't run this time. Things had been going so well, but what he'd done the previous night…. It was unforgivable. It was his fault, he knew. He was the reason she'd run. He'd driven her off by pushing her into something she wasn't ready for – something she may not ever want from him. The guilt had clawed at him all night. He had made a fool of himself, losing his control so easily and completely just from the feeling of her body rubbing against his. He'd acted like an over-eager teen. Cursing himself, he splashed through a shallow stream, ignoring the freezing cold water that seeped through the material of his sweatpants. He'd let his loneliness cloud his better judgment, he argued with himself. Still, no matter what excuses he gave himself, he still couldn't erase the image of her face when she'd stood up and walked into the bedroom. Her red eyes had been filled with fear, almost as if she thought he might grab her again. When he'd reentered the bedroom, she'd been hugging her knees to her chest as if she'd been hurting. She'd needed comfort, and he wasn't fit to give that to her anymore. He couldn't be trusted around her.

She had come to him in search of a haven, and he'd taken advantage of her vulnerability. His anger with himself caused him to increase his pace, following her trail easily thanks to the tracks she'd left in the fresh snowfall.

Yes, he'd apologized, but he had to do more to regain her trust. He didn't want her to leave; he'd promised her that he'd help her get through this. He couldn't put her recovery on the line because he'd been weak. Suddenly, he realized that was a lie. He wasn't only doing this for her. If he was completely honest with himself, _he_ was the one who wasn't ready to have her leave yet. He had just begun to get to know the woman she was now, and he liked her just as much as he'd liked the girl she used to be.

As he felt the cold air rushing past his skin, he realized he hadn't thought about that girl for almost a week. Yes, he could fondly recall those memories, but they were easily being replaced by new ones of the Jubilee she was now: a beautiful, intelligent, and funny woman. Her mind worked in a more critical way, and she asked questions that made him think about things differently. Because of her, he was reevaluating his life, and he didn't want to be alone on the mountain anymore. He realized that if he couldn't find her today, he wouldn't return to the cabin. He couldn't return to that solitary life again. In the few weeks she'd been there, she'd changed him. What had begun as a journey to heal her had ended up also being a journey for him. He no longer wanted to be alone. Determined, he pushed himself even harder as he followed her small footprints. He would find her, he swore, if only to tell her that.

* * *

Author's note: Sorry to get so emo again for those of you who don't enjoy that, but Jubilee's got years of problems behind her, so it isn't going to be easy for her to just stop doubting and disliking herself. I'm trying to balance the romance (happy) with the struggle to overcome her past (sad/emo). Of course, the two are intertwined.

Also, I've hit a point in the storyline where I could go one of two ways, and I'd really like some reader feedback to help me choose a path. I'm working on Chapter 10 now, and I could continue to focus on the romance and healing part of the story, or I could take a short foray into more of an action and adventure storyline. I've posted a pole on my profile, and I would appreciate your input! Please take the time to go and click (it's just one question). Also, any reviews and feedback is very much appreciated. Thank you to everyone who continues to follow and favorite this story.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Boy, you all know how to get me to write! I hammered out quite a few chapters over the last few days thanks to your wonderful reviews. Please keep them coming! At this rate, I should be able to publish twice a week. I'm going to aim for Wednesdays and Saturdays.

Growlscout: I absolutely agree that they need to get on the same page in this chapter, and I think I've accomplished that. I'd love to hear your feedback though. It's always very thoughtful and helpful.

Amy: What a wonderful idea! I don't know how well I'd do a true "Choose Your Own Adventure" (I loved those books) in this format, but I think I could write two separate time frames from Chapter 8 on. I just need to consider the logistics of that: post them both here? Post them as two separate stories? Let me think more on that. Anyone who has ideas on the best way to pull this off, send me a PM.

So the poll results (and reviews) showed interest in both romance and adventure, so I'm going to give the adventure route a shot, but line it heavily with the romance. I may follow Amy's suggestion and post a separate thread that is pure romance once I think that through a little more. Please keep the reviews coming. They are really inspiring, and I appreciate the help with the creative process. Enjoy!

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Chapter 8:

Logan caught up with her just after noon. She had found a small cave and had covered the opening with some loose brush. He pushed his way through, trying to let as little light in as possible. He found her curled up, sleeping deep in the back. He managed to squeeze into a sitting position next to her and pulled some food out of his sack. He ate a sandwich and washed it down with water before readjusting her so that her head rested on his thigh. She had the heavy parka he'd bought her wrapped around her, but her skin was still cold to the touch, and her body was impossibly still and silent. Anyone who had come across her at this point would assume she was dead. Well, he thought, she was dead, but not in the same way they might think. Resting his head back against the cave wall, he fell into a light sleep, waking every few minutes to stroke his fingers along her hair, not wanting to drift off completely so that she could sneak away again.

He knew she woke when she began to breathe again, even though she didn't move a muscle. She took a few deep breaths, and he guessed that she was gauging who was with her through her sense of smell. He'd taught her well, he thought with a short-lived quirk of his lips. When he spoke, his voice came out sounding gravelly from breathing in the cold air, "You sleep okay?"

She pushed herself into a sitting position, scooting away from him, though the close confines of the cave didn't allow her to move far. He knew he could still reach out and grab her if she decided to bolt. Her darted glance to the opening, followed by a slight grimace, was the only way he knew that the sun was still up. Good. He thought. She was stuck talking to him. She ignored his question and instead asked one of her own, "Why did you come after me?"

He offered her the bottle of water, and she accepted it and drank while he answered, "A promise is a promise, right?" At her look of confusion, he explained. "When you decided to start over, I promised that I wouldn't let you run off."

She stared at him for a moment before looking away, a spark of hurt in her crimson eyes, "I wouldn't hold you to that. You've done enough for me." The words came out bitterly, and he flinched as if she'd smacked him. He felt sick in his stomach. She didn't want his help anymore.

"Jubilee," he said her name softly, the tone close to pleading. Carefully, he cleared his throat and tried again, "I really am sorry, kid. Do you think we can just put it behind us?"

To his surprise, she threw the open bottle of water at him and covered her ears, yelling at him, "I'm not a damned kid, and I don't want your apologies!"

He wiped water from his face and moved closer to her in an attempt to tug her hands away from her ears. When he spoke, there was a hint of anger in his own voice. "Sorry, Jubilee. Did you hear me that time? I'm going to keep saying it again and again until you listen to me and forgive me."

"Forgive you?" She asked scathingly, "Forgive you? I don't understand you, Logan. Not at all! If you regret what happened, that's fine, but I don't… I don't need you to keep apologizing to me about it. There's nothing to forgive. It was my fault, I pushed you-"

He cut her off, capturing her hands in his, "It's not your fault!" He argued, "Don't put that on yourself. I took advantage-"

"Advantage?" she practically screeched the word to make him stop talking. Her next words came out filled with anger, frustration and hurt, "Fuck you, Logan!"

When he sat back, startled, she finally took the opportunity to be perfectly clear with him. "I know vampires disgust you. You've never hidden that." When he looked baffled and shook his head in confusion, she held up her hand and kept talking. "You've always been here for me no matter what, and if anyone took advantage, it was me. You've never told me 'no' about anything, so I should have known better than to push things last night. I shouldn't have put you in that position no matter what _I_ was feeling. I realize that I crossed a line, and it's better if I just go away. I don't' want you to have to feel awkward or nervous about me being there."

He just stared at her, his jaw hanging open. He had no idea where this was coming from. She'd taken advantage of him? What the hell did his feelings about vampires have to do with anything? He shook his head again and closed his mouth, "Jubilee, I don't know what you're talking about."

Now she looked even more upset, and her eyes clouded, a pink-tinged tear escaping from the corner of one eye. "Fine," she said, "If I have to completely throw my pride on the line, I'll just say it. I'm sorry I threw myself at you. I'm sorry that I'm a fucking disgusting blood sucker. I'll never be the person I used to be, and I understand if you don't want me to be around for fear that I'll jump you again. You don't have to keep helping me out of a sense of misplaced obligation."

He sat back, stunned for a moment. Then, he started to realize why she was so upset by his apologies. He began to laugh. She thought he hadn't wanted what had happened last night. She had wanted it, too. He was almost giddy with the realization that she just might feel the same way about him that he felt about her. As his laughter began to subside, he leaned forward and cupped her face with his hands, tightening his grip when she tried to pull away. She hissed at him in frustration, baring her fangs, but he ignored that. Then, he leaned in to press his lips to hers, fangs or no fangs. Her body stilled as his lips caressed hers. When she relaxed her mouth, he deepened the kiss, sliding his body closer so that he could angle her head. When he felt a tentative hand touch his jaw, he pulled her into his lap and smoothed a hand down her back to press her upper body against his.

When he broke the kiss, he only let her draw her head back a few inches, his other arm keeping her pinned against his chest. He watched her face warily and realized that she was watching him in the same way. He pressed another feather-light kiss on her mouth before he whispered huskily, "Darlin', I think we've had one hell of a miscommunication if you think I don't want you." He felt a chill run through her body at his words and allowed a self-satisfied smile to curve his lips.

When she leaned in to kiss him, he let her, enjoying the feeling of her fingers threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss was sweet, soft, and unhurried. When she drew back, she rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed and her short, spikey lashes resting on her cheek. He lifted one hand to brush away the pink smear left by the tear and then tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "I'm gonna say it one more time whether you want to hear it or not," he began, "I'm sorry, but not for the same reason I was last night." When she opened her eyes to look at him, he grinned wickedly and explained, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you last night how much I enjoyed myself." When she flushed and her lips curved into a smile, he kissed her again and then slid back until he could rest his back against the cave wall.

He continued to hold her in his lap, enjoying the fact that her body was slowly warming from the close contact with his. He tucked her head beneath his chin and picked up the coat she'd tossed off when she sat up. He pulled it over both of them to try to contain the heat even more. When she tried to pull back to look at him, he pressed her head closer to his shoulder, "No," he said. "We gotta talk, and if you're sitting up where I can look at you, I'm going to kiss you again now that I know I can, and that's going to lead to other things that won't involve me talkin' to ya either."

She laughed a throaty chuckle but stopped struggling. One of her hands slipped inside his coat and beneath his arm to warm itself, and he helped her by unzipping the coat the rest of the way, allowing her to burrow closer to his body heat. He felt her turn her head closer to him and take a slow, deep breath. He smiled, combing his fingers through her silky hair, removing a few leaves and twigs that had gotten caught in it the night before. He waited for her to settle before he began talking.

"First of all, I don't know where you got it into yer thick skull that I care that you're a vampire. I don't give a rat's ass whether you're a vampire, a human, or a mutant." When she took a breath as if to interrupt, he squeezed her hard. When she let the breath out in a frustrated sigh, he continued, "I know I wasn't a big fan of vampires at the start, but I don't even think of you as one of them. I mean, yeah, you drink blood and can do some vampy tricks, but I'm used to being around people with powers after all the time I've spent around mutants." He frowned, feeling as if he was being unclear. He tried again, "I don't look at you and think: 'vampire.' When I look at you, I just see: 'Jubilee.' But that isn't even accurate." He paused and let his head fall back against the wall as he sorted out what he wanted to say. "I guess I don't think about you in the same way I used to. I don't think of you as that fifteen year old kid, or even as the suddenly-human girl with no powers. I don't even see the same vampire that has come in and out of my life in the past few years." He stroked his fingers through her hair again, "I feel like maybe I'm getting to know who you really are, after all of this time. And…I like you." He could feel heat rising in his neck. There was something about her, something about figuring out this new facet of their relationship that made him feel like an awkward teenage boy.

She remained silent, but her hand moved to softly stroke over the material that covered his chest. Deciding this was her way of telling him to go on, he cleared his throat and began speaking again, "I like you, ya know? I know you won't ever be that same girl I first met, but I'm glad about that. I have a lot of respect for the woman you are now, no matter what mistakes you've made in the past. I know I've made my fair share, and you've never judged me, so I guess it doesn't really matter that much. You're strong and smart and damned sexy, and I sure the hell ain't keeping you around because I feel like I have to." Now he pushed her away enough to tilt her chin up to look at him. Her smile warmed him more than anything and loosened the ball of nerves that had been forming in his chest as he spoke. "I want you with me, so if you run again, I'll keep coming after you."

She slid her arms around his neck and leaned up to kiss him again. When she pulled back, her smile was broader. She stroked one finger along his cold cheek, "I'll try to keep that from happening again, but it's good to know it won't be that easy to get rid of you."

He chuckled and stroked his hand up her back again, "It'll be damned hard to shake me." She smiled again, and he tilted his arm until he could see his watch behind her head. "It's almost twilight, so if you take a nip from me, we can probably start heading back someplace warm."

She nodded, so he tilted his head back. Her fingertips traced over his jugular, but she hesitated. Instead she took his arm and brought his wrist to her lips, when he pulled his hand away, saying, "No, it's okay," she laughed, her eyes gleaming.

"I think I'll save that," she said, "I think we both get a bit carried away, and this frozen rock floor doesn't look that comfortable." Personally, he wouldn't have minded the floor, but he knew she deserved better. Still, the realization that she felt the same way about him as he felt for her… well, he couldn't fight off a smile as she bit daintily into his wrist.

* * *

They had traveled quite a ways south, so rather than trudging through snow that was waist-deep in places, they'd followed the sound of traffic to Mackenzie Highway. They were able to hitch hike a ride with one of the lumber trucks to a town farther in the Northwest Territory. They stopped at a small bar so that Logan could eat some hot food. Jubilee ordered some hot tea and whiskey for herself and waited patiently while he ordered a hamburger and fries. They attracted some attention as any strangers did this far north, so Jubilee kept her sunglasses on even though the sun had gone down. The last thing they needed was trouble from anti-vampire fanatics.

Logan finished his meal quickly, and they were able to head back out into the cold. It was snowing again, coming down in large, heavy flakes. "We'll make quicker time going cross country from this point," he commented as they stood in the frozen parking lot.

She nodded, and they started off at an easy walk toward the tree line, breaking into a jog once they reached the safety of the forest. "Good thing your healing factor keeps you from turning into a popsicle," she commented as they broke into a run.

He grinned at her, "Yeah, that's me: lucky." After they had run a few miles, leaping over larger drifts when necessary, he continued, "Still, I won't mind getting home where it's warm."

She nodded and matched his pace when he sped up. She couldn't help smiling as she ran, when she glanced sideways at him, she saw that he was smiling as well. During the ride in the log truck, she'd had to sit in his lap since there were only two seats in the cab. It had been heaven to be surrounded by such warmth—both from the truck's heater and the heat that had been radiating from his body. He had simply held her hands before he had fell into a light sleep. She had rested her head against his chest, enjoying the musky scent that was uniquely his. It reminded her of fresh water, pine, and woodsmoke. She had been enjoying the moment too much to sleep, though she was regretting that now as she felt fatigue beginning to wear at her.

She felt her lips curve into a wider grin as she vaulted over a fallen tree, recalling how his hands had wandered over her thighs as he woke and then had slipped under her shirt to slide tantalizingly over her stomach and up her rib cage. The feeling had been wonderful and had caused a completely different kind of warmth to spread through her. Still, she'd glanced at the truck driver to make sure he'd kept his eyes on the road before shooting Logan a censuring look. He had had a wide grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes, obviously teasing her. She had rolled her eyes at him and recaptured his hands with her own.

She was so distracted by the memory and the joy that overwhelmed her that the blow took her by complete surprise, sending her flying in the air several yards before she connected with a tree. She ricocheted off it and into a second tree before landing on the ground in a deep pile of snow. Everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:  
Jubilee regained consciousness rather quickly. She lay motionless for a moment, dazed and utterly confused. She could feel sluggish blood seeping from a large gash in the back of her head, and her shoulder was clearly dislocated. What the hell had happened? She didn't breathe or move as she listened to the conversation taking place.

"…so imagine my surprise to find the Wolverine roaming in these woods." A high-pitched female voice said. "You aren't at all what I'm after, but seeing you lets me know I must be on the right track."

"I don't know what you want, Selene, but you know I won't let you hurt her."

The woman laughed, "Oh, but I plan on doing more than hurting her. I plan on removing her head. You do know how very difficult she is to kill." There was a pause, and Jubilee could hear Logan growl in a mixture of outrage and warning. The woman chuckled again, "She's taken something of mine, and I find that quite unforgivable."

"You'll have to get through me- -" Logan abruptly stopped speaking, and Jubilee almost jumped to her feet to come to his aid, but just lifting her head caused dizziness to overtake her. That head injury must be pretty bad if hadn't immediately healed. She was able to turn her face enough to see that he was being pinned against a tree by an invisible force.

Jubilee could only see the back of the woman as she approached him. She had long black hair and a black, fur-lined cape covered her body. A black-gloved hand reached up to take one of Logan's hands into hers. She watched as his body jolted in response. She was doing something to him. Jubilee tried to push herself into a crouch, but her arm was useless, dislocated. She'd have to snap it back into place, which would make enough noise to get everyone's attention, but then the darkly-clad figure's words gave her pause: "I don't have plans on killing you, Logan; it just isn't part of my current agenda, but I don't need you mucking up my plans either." The hand flexed on his, and his claws slid out. By the gritting of his teeth, Jubilee guessed it was not of his doing. Almost as if moving the limb of a sleeping child, she easily twisted his arm until she could plunge the blades deep into his abdomen and after that, into the tree he was pressed against.

He grunted in pain, and his eyes met Jubilee's. At this point, she had managed to roll into a crouch. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He didn't want her to interfere. The woman didn't notice the look because she was almost lovingly stroking his other hand now.

"Don't fight me, Wolverine. You know I'll win." He grunted as the claws made an appearance on his other hand. She followed the same process with this one, and this time, he couldn't help but cry out from the pain, but his eyes stayed focused on Jubilee, clear warning written in them. It took all of her trust in him from years and years of being his partner for her to remain where she was, especially when the woman ran her fingers along his cheek and leaned up to press a kiss on his mouth…a kiss that lasted much longer than was appropriate. When she drew back, his head sagged against the tree, and he gasped for breath.

The woman sighed in contentment, "Oh thank you. That will hold me over for a while. I want to be at my best when I find your little girl." Her hands rested over his, pressing harder and twisting to cause fresh blood to pour out of the wounds. "Now, I want you to remain like this for a time, and I don't want you to follow me. I will promise you to give her a quick death, but if you follow me, I will draw it out; I will torture her until her mind shatters, and she is completely unrecognizable to those who hold her dear." The woman reached up to pat his cheek. "You know I've been around long enough to have quite a few tricks up my sleeve. Now, be a good boy, and don't make me regret letting you live."

With that, the woman took a few steps and was gone. Logan screamed out in pain as she disappeared, the full weight of his body no longer being held up by her telekinesis. Jubilee dashed toward him. She used her strength to press him up against the tree to try to take the weight off of the claws. "For God's sake, retract them, Logan!" She ordered, trying to hold his body weight so it didn't cause more tearing of his abdomen.

"I…can't…" he managed to bite out. Gritting her teeth, she wrapped her hand around one of his, still trying to support his weight with her damaged shoulder, but the blood made both of their hands slippery. It took a few tries, but with powerful jerks, she was able to remove first one hand and then the other. His full weight fell against her, and they tumbled to the ground.

She carefully rolled him onto his back and pressed her good hand against his stomach to put pressure there while she waited for it to heal. The damage was severe, likely exactly what the woman had wanted to keep him from following her. He kept his eyes closed against the pain but managed to murmur, "Thanks for stayin' down. I tried to hit you hard enough to get you outta her notice."

"You hit me?" she asked in surprise as she shrugged out of her parka and pressed it against his stomach, ignoring when he jolted in pain from the renewed pressure. At least the bleeding was slowing, though not as quickly as she expected.

"Yeah," he grunted, "I barely had a second after I scented her. What the hell does she got against you?" He coughed, and some blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

Jubilee paused in her ministrations, but only for a moment. She didn't meet his eyes, but just shook her head and said, perhaps more harshly than she intended, "Be quiet until you heal." She had no idea who the woman was, but she would not be the first person coming after her seeking retribution for something Jubilee had done. But she couldn't dwell on that mystery right now. When she lifted her hand to peek at the wound, she realized she was shaking, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. That was a mistake, she realized quickly as the scent of so much blood made her light-headed, her inner instincts rising up and demanding to be fed. She squeezed her eyes closed as she fought to maintain control, to focus on the task at hand. She turned her face away from him, not wanting him to see the raw hunger that was overwhelming her. Not wanting to see him recoil from her.

When she felt his fingers close around her hand over his stomach, she widened her fingers enough so that his could twine through hers. He squeezed her hand, and she absorbed his strength, realizing that she didn't have to fight this alone. His other hand lifted to turn her face back to him, and he kept his hand there, cupping her cheek until she opened her eyes. When she finally gained enough control to open her eyes, he was patiently watching her, a smile curving his lips. He winked, and mumbled, "Proud of you."

She smiled and bent down to kiss him, savoring the taste of blood despite her best efforts to ignore it. She attempted to move her arm to cup his face but winced when she remembered it was still dislocated. He frowned in concern at the wince. She untangled her hand from his and pressed his hand down. "You keep the pressure here, all right?" When he opened his mouth to speak, she pressed down on his hand again, "No. You need to do this so I can fix my shoulder without worrying about you. Then I'll get you up, and we can head back home."

He frowned at her, mumbled the word "bossy," but he remained stationary as she struggled to her feet, her arm still hanging limply by her side. She knew he was still watching her, so she moved further away and stepped behind a tree. She leaned her shoulder against it, exhaled all the oxygen in her lungs (she figured couldn't scream if she didn't have the breath to), and gripped her arm with her good hand. With a quick shove and a resounding CRACK, she reset her shoulder, popping the bones back to where they should be. The pain was intense, and her knees went weak. Her vision dimmed, and when it cleared, she was on her hands and knees, staring down at the snow where little red dots were gradually appearing. Reaching up, she realized she'd bitten through her lip. She sat up and used the edge of her shirt to wipe it from her face, running her tongue over her lip and realizing it was healing quickly enough. She leaned against the tree for just a moment, trying to regain her strength and composure. The pain still radiated from her shoulder, and the back of her head still ached, but she was in considerably better shape than Logan was. Healing factors aside, things didn't heal instantaneously, and she could already feel hunger gnawing at her, even though she was away from the blood. She was working through the blood he'd given her that afternoon at a fast pace considering they'd started on their way before sunset. Now with all the healing her body had to do….

She had to get him back home though, and quickly. His healing factor was working overtime, so he was likely feeling the effects of the cold more now than ever as it tried to both heal the ghastly wounds on his chest and fight the freezing temperatures. She glanced up at the sky that showed through the skeletal branches. She had a couple hours until daybreak, so she would have to work fast. Cursing the woman in black, she pushed herself to her feet and moved back toward him, trying to paste a smile onto her face. She knelt back down beside him and avoided meeting his concerned gaze. His lips were looking a little blue, and that worried her. She moved her parka aside to check the wound again. The wounds were just beginning to close. Being used to his normal healing rate, she knew something was wrong. She had to get him home quickly. She should be able to move him now, though she was sure he wasn't going to be much help.

"You okay? You look paler than normal," he croaked.

"I'm good," she commented, "You are not so good, so we've got to get you home. I'm going to bandage your stomach. Can you tough it out if I help you? We're not far from the cabin, just a few miles." When he nodded, she ripped the parka into shreds, using the stuffing from the inside to pack around the front and back wounds and using the strips to bandage him. Silently, she thanked the X-Men for the field medic course all of the students had had to complete. She moved as quickly as she could, forgoing being gentle in favor of expediency. His eyes had drifted closed, and he occasionally grunted in pain, but he wasn't moving much and hadn't tried to talk again. As she worked, she chewed some of the blood-soaked snow both for the hydration as well as the strength the blood might give her. Her body didn't have a high internal temperature, so it would work for the time being. She had no idea where his pack with the supplies was, and she wasn't going to waste time searching for it. When she was finished, she noticed the sky far to the east had begun to look lighter.

"Logan." When he didn't respond, she placed her cold hands on his face, tapping his cheeks lightly, "Logan! You have to wake up." His eyes opened groggily and then slipped closed again. His body was trying to conserve energy. "Logan!" She slapped his face a little harder and his eyes snapped open, taking a few moments to focus on her face. "Logan. You have to help me. I can't carry you on my own right now. I need you to try to walk. Can you do that?" He nodded but closed his eyes again. She cursed and bent her face closer to his, "Logan! The sun is going to come up, and I'm not going to leave you here. Wake up unless you want to watch me fry!"

At the urgency in her voice, he tried to push himself into a sitting position, still not opening his eyes. His head lolled forward, and she took on much of his weight as she helped him to get to his feet. The amount of blood that covered the ground where he had laid terrified her. He had lost more, much more than she had imagined. She turned away, fighting the sick feeling of dread in her stomach.

"Come on," she murmured, "Let's get you home."

It was almost daybreak by the time they reached the clearing, and by that point, Jubilee was mostly dragging him along with her. His skin was as icily cold as hers was, and she was sure his mutant powers were working hard at just keeping his systems functioning. Blood had begun to seep through the packing at his waist, and his breath was shallow. Just as she was getting ready to leave the forest, she stopped. There were fresh footprints coming from the other side of the clearing that didn't belong to either of them. Jubilee lifted her head to sniff the air. The scent was distinctive and familiar, but it didn't match what she'd smelled from the woman earlier. Whoever had been here was long gone, likely having arrived earlier in the day. Leaving Logan propped against a tree, she scouted the perimeter, and gradually moved closer to the house to study the prints on the porch. The boots were much smaller than Logan's, closer to her size, so that made two mysterious women in one day. Fan-fucking-tastic. Just what she needed.

She looked up again, her gaze searching the porch, the clearing, and the treeline for any clue of who it had been. She sniffed again, but fresh snowfall had masked any lingering scents. She pushed the door open and looked around inside. The door had been unlocked, but it appeared that their visitor hadn't even tried entering.

Jubilee jogged back to where she'd left him, each step feeling as if her feet weighed a ton. She carefully helped Logan up the steps and into the room, laying him on the couch. The fire had gone out long ago, and the backup heater had turned on to keep the place at a temperature just above freezing, but it was still cold. Clumsily, she began to build the fire, using small scraps to start and slowly feeding in larger branches until she could add a few heavier logs.

She moved to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge for him and a bottle of his blood for her. She knelt by him and lifted his head, putting the water to his lips. He was still pretty out of it, so he choked at first, but eventually, he began to drink. She made him finish half of the bottle and then let him rest again. The fire was crackling, but she threw a couple more logs on it as she went to the bathroom and turned the shower on, giving the water time to warm. His skin had been so icy. On her way back to the couch, she chugged the blood, almost immediately feeling her waning strength return.

She helped him up from the couch and half-carried him to the bathroom. She stripped him, relieved that the skin had fully closed over the wounds on his abdomen, discarded what she was wearing, and guided him into the shower, helping him lift his legs over the rim of the tub. She let him lean against her and turned him so that the warm water ran over his back. She stroked her fingers along the skin so that they would be warmed by the spray while she cleaned the blood from his lower back. She had to hold back a sob when she felt the scabs where his claws had pierced through. The reality of all of it was suddenly hitting her. She gave into the emotions for just a few moments, letting the tears slide down her cheeks as she held him, trying to warm his frigid body.

She felt him release a shuddering breath, and felt him trying to stand on his own. She soothingly murmured his name, whispering that he was safe and that they were home. He calmed, resting his weight on her once more. As she felt his body warming, she released a sigh of relief and stretched one hand to increase the temperature of the water to make it closer to hot. She rotated so the spray ran over her shoulders, covering the front of his body where it pressed against hers. His head rested on her shoulder, facing away from the spray. She heard him cough, and soothed his back again. Her lips curved into a wry smile when she heard him mutter, "Certainly planned on…enjoyin'…bein' naked in a shower… with you…more than…this." His voice trailed off and he sagged more heavily against her. Yeah, any of her fantasies of being in a shower with him had been a far cry from this reality as well. She closed her eyes and leaned her good shoulder against the wall of the shower. She was so tired.

They stayed in that position until the water began to run cold. She reached behind to turn it off and grabbed a towel to wrap around his shoulders. She dried him and re-bandaged his abdomen, which didn't look as if it had improved much, and assumed that meant his body was focusing on healing any internal injuries. She carefully guided him back to the living room, nudging the armchair closer to the fire and resting him in it. She moved the coffee table and couch out of the way and was pleased to see his eyes open and watching her. He was feeling well enough to be aware of what was going on. She dragged the mattress from the bedroom and settled it in front of the fire, returning with as many blankets as she could find. She moved in front of him and cupped his face with her hands. His skin was still cold, but at least his color was becoming normal again.

He grinned at her and she smiled back before carefully lifting him and settling him on the mattress, covering him with all of the blankets. She moved to the door and began to lace her boots when she realized that she'd never taken the time to dress. She glanced back at him, but his eyes had drifted closed. So that had been what he'd been grinning at. She closed her eyes in embarrassment and prayed that he would be too out of it to remember watching her rearrange furniture in the nude. She dashed back into the bedroom to throw on some clothing and cracked the door. The sun was just barely up. She grabbed another bottle of blood and then stepped out into the light, ignoring the tingle it caused on her skin. She wanted to check the perimeter one more time before resting for the day. When she felt secure, she went back inside, locked and barred the door, and curled up on the mattress next to him to fall asleep.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for another fantastic review, growlscout!

I know some of you may be scratching your head over just how long it's taking Logan to heal up, but it will make more sense if you 1. Know who Selene is and 2. Read the next chapter. It will be explained. The next chapter may not post until late on Weds as I'll be traveling for work this week. My apologies—stay tuned and keep the reviews and comments coming!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Logan awoke slowly and took careful stock of his body. One side of his abdomen still hurt pretty badly, but it was better than the searing pain from yesterday. His body felt much warmer now, and he attributed that to the still form that was curled up against his side. He rolled his head toward her carefully so as not to wake her. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder, one of her arms draped over her chest, her hand resting over his heart. His lips curved, and he lifted his own hand to place it over hers. Her fingers flexed, so he brought her hand to his lips, placing a kiss in the center of her palm.

She lifted her head and pushed herself up on one arm. He was pleased to note it was the one that had been dislocated. She looked fine. She pulled her hand free of his grip to run her fingers over his forehead, along his face, and down over his chest. When she peeled back the bandages on his stomach, he could feel her hands touching his lower abdomen, and he became quickly aware that he wasn't wearing anything other than the bandage. She smoothed the gauze back down and sighed, the relief clear in her face.

He quirked one eyebrow at her, "Was it that bad?"

She nodded and reclined against him again. "Yeah," she said softly. "I think it was the worst I've seen you. Ever. You were so cold and barely healing. I don't know why you were so bad off, maybe because I'd taken blood earlier."

He shook his head, "No, it didn't have anything to do with you." He explained, his hand moving to stroke through her silky hair. "It was Selene. She has the power to suck up life force, and she took a nice chunk out of me to say good-bye."

He felt Jubilee stiffen, and then relax. "Who is she?" She asked.

"Selene Gallio." When Jubilee said nothing, he explained, "She's lived longer than anyone I've ever met, and there are even some rumors floating around that she was the very first mutant. You've might have heard of her referred to as the Black Queen when she was part of the Hellfire Club."

Jubilee nodded against his chest and was silent for a moment before she asked, "Why didn't she kill you?"

He grunted in response, enjoying the way her fingers were tracing small patterns through his chest hair. "I did her a favor once," he explained, "Someone was trying to kill her, and I stopped it." She made a soft sound. "Any idea why she's after you? She said she was gonna kill ya."

Jubilee pushed herself into a sitting position and then stood. "I don't know," she said as she moved to pile more wood onto what was left of the fire. She waited for the wood to catch before kneeling next to him. Instead of looking at him, she watched the flames dance. "I haven't killed anyone for at least two years, but before that…" she shook her head and clenched her jaw before meeting his gaze head on. "Before that I killed hundreds of people without even thinking of it. I didn't even know half of their names. Any one of them could have been the reason." She released a shuddering breath, "Logan, I should really go before she comes back. Anything that happens at this point, I deserve. I'm evil. Maybe it's best if she does - -"

He cut her off by sitting up and placing a finger over her lips. He could feel a twinge of pain in his side from the sudden movement, but it barely registered in his mind. He shook his head, "You are not evil, Jubilee." When she tried to pull his hand away to argue, he slid his hand around to the back of her head to pull her into a kiss. She fought it at first, but soon surrendered to the kiss, leaning into him. Satisfied, he pulled back and watched as he eyes slowly slid back open. "You're not evil. You're healing. I don't want you to speak- - or even think - - of yourself that way again. We clear?"

She only pressed her lips together and looked away. Sighing, he didn't push it, but he did lay back down and pull her with him so that she rested in the circle of his arms. "No matter what, we're in this together now. If she comes, we face her together. I swear to God if you get it into your head to try to be a martyr…."

She laughed, "And what will you do?"

He smiled and slid one hand down her back to give her a quick smack on the ass. "Don't worry about specifics, but you won't enjoy it."

She lifted her head from his shoulder to grin up at him and blink innocently, "But what if I liked that?"

Instead of responding, he quickly rolled so that her body was trapped under his. His hand skimmed down her side to slide one of her thighs up around his hips, allowing his body to settle between her legs. He heard her breath catch and her eyes flare. Her hands slid up around his neck, and she brought his mouth down to hers. Although he had only planned on teasing her, things quickly spun out of his control, and he deepened the kiss. His hand massaged the flesh of her thigh, gliding upward to her hip and pressing himself more firmly against her. She moaned and wrapped both of her legs around his hips. Mentally, he cursed the sweatpants she wore and tugged at the waistband, bending at an awkward angle that caused sharp pain to spiral from his abdomen.

She noticed his sharp intake of breath and caught his hand in one of hers. The other cupped his face as she suggested, "Maybe we should wait until you're healed. It's too much right now."

"Hell no." was his short response, accompanied by a dark scowl. She only laughed and pushed him off of her. Refusing to let her go, he pulled her with him until her body was stretched out on top of his. He brought her mouth down to his for another bruising kiss. Eventually, he trailed his mouth along her cheek and whispered in her ear, "I've been waiting too long for this, and so have you. I know it by how you react when I touch you." He trailed a finger down her back, the telltale shivers that ran through her body proving his point. "You really gonna make me wait even another minute?"

He felt her head drop against the pillow in what he hoped was defeat. Moments later, she sat up and rolled off of him, slapping at his hands when he tried to keep her body pressed to his. "Okay, okay." She took a deep breath and shook her head as if trying to refocus. "On one condition."

He shook his head and reached to pull her back down again, but she pushed his hands away. "No, you have to promise," she insisted.

He scowled at her and said nothing. She seemed to be trying very hard to keep from smiling as she continued, "The only way this happens right now is if you promise that we'll stop if you're hurting," when he opened his mouth to argue, she pressed a finger over his lips. " Because…" when he quieted and just glared at her, she slowly began to toy with the edge of her camisole to lift it enough to expose a pale sliver of flesh. When his eyes looked back up at her face, she continued, "I need you to be healed enough to do this multiple times tomorrow."

He grinned and nipped at the tip of her finger. She only raised her eyebrows at him, so he nodded, "I promise. I promise." His eyes dropped back to where her fingers were toying with the lace edge.

She smiled and pulled the top the rest of the way off before wiggling out of the sweats. He made an approving sound in his throat as he drank in the sight of her naked body. After a moment's pause, he pulled her back down onto him, his hands sliding over all of the warm, exposed flesh. He tugged her to straddle him, and she slid back until she could lower herself onto him. He closed his eyes, his hands tightening on her hips as she sank down to the hilt. Once she was settled, she leaned forward to kiss him again.

"So much for foreplay," he murmured as she began to move on him.

Jubilee laughed and sat upright so she could move more easily, "Sweetheart, we've had weeks of foreplay." She brought one of his hands up so she could nip at his fingers before placing the palm against her breast. "As you said, I didn't think either of us wanted to waste any more time." Her voice got breathy as his other hand slid up her stomach as well. She placed one hand on his chest for balance and gazed down at him as she moved, her face clearly mirroring the pleasure that she was feeling.

He pulled her down again, thrusting his own hips up into hers, enjoying the soft sounds she made. He kissed her and then tilted his head to the side, offering his neck. She shook her head, and murmured, "After" as she rocked her hips harder to meet his thrusts. He reveled in every moment, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin under his hands, the taste of her mouth on his, and the sounds of her pleasure. He wanted to roll her over, to take control, but he was aware enough to know that would mean "Game Over" according to their agreement. As enjoyable as it was, it wasn't quite in his nature to be the passive party in such situations. Still, he tried to memorize every moment as her body glided over his.

"Logan!" The edge of raw need in her voice caused him to rear up, ignoring the twinge of pain, to take the tip of her breast into his mouth. Her fingers fisted in his hair, and her body moved more frantically over his. She gasped out his name again as her entire body tightened around his before she shuddered hard with her climax. He watched her face as she came, the firelight glinting off of her eyes, the tips of her fangs, and the perspiration that had collected on her skin. The sight was enough to trigger his own release, and he gripped her hips tightly to drive hard into her. She collapsed onto his chest, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her as they rode out the remaining tremors of pleasure.

He was still trying to catch his breath when he growled, "If you ruin this by sitting up and looking at me like a kicked puppy again, I will throttle you."

She laughed and rolled off of him to stretch her body, giving him a wonderful view in the process. When she caught him looking, she teased, "What if I say I feel more like a contented kitten?"

He grinned and rolled onto his side so that he could trail a hand down her stomach, "Then," he promised huskily, "I will just have to share with you my admiration for…" he paused and arched an eyebrow, "cats."

She moaned when his fingers found what they were searching for and enjoyed the feeling for just a moment before she grabbed his wrist and shook her head. "It's too soon. You need to rest."

He grinned at her and bent to kiss her, his fingers still rubbing and then sinking into her. Then his tongue snaked out to trace her bottom lip before he naughtily whispered, "But _I can _rest if you get on top again."

He could tell by the way her eyes gleamed a deeper red that she was considering giving into his proposal when they were both startled by a knock at the door. He swore quite colorfully as she leaped to her feet and began to tug on her clothes. "Let me get it," he said as he pushed himself into a standing position. She dashed into the bedroom, and when she returned, he noticed she paused in passing him a pair of pants that she took the time to enjoy the view.

He grinned and pulled her against him for a quick kiss. "I'll tell whoever it is to come back in a week." He winked as she gave him a light push toward the door at the second knock.

His blades slid out with a quiet SNKTT sound just before he pulled the door open, expecting to see Selene there. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jubilee approaching the door as well, but he noted she'd stopped breathing and moving so she could have the element of surprise. Unfortunately, Logan was the one who was surprised when he opened to door to find the woman formerly known as X-23 standing there, her hand raised to knock once more.

Laura took in his state of undress in one glance, sniffed the air, and gave him a disapproving look. "I suppose I'll have to come back _again._" She stressed the last word. She rolled her eyes at him, apparently annoyed, "I certainly didn't expect you to be _entertaining_ someone up here." She didn't stop speaking as she stepped past him into the room. "I assumed Jubilee might be here, and I didn't imagine you'd have live meat here for her to…"

She trailed off when she saw Jubilee standing just inside the door, and for once, she was the one taken by surprise. When Laura turned and saw her, there was an uncharacteristic moment where her emotions clearly played across her face: her eyes widened, and she drew a sharp breath. Her nostrils flared again as the other girl walked past her to stand at Logan's side. He knew immediately what she was smelling. Jubilee was covered in his scent. Laura looked at him sharply, her gaze darting back and forth between them.

He could have groaned when Jubilee possessively slid an arm around his, letting one of her fingers trail along his chest pointedly. He closed his eyes and tried to gather his patience as Laura's eyes narrowed into slits. He could feel a cat fight brewing, and he felt like the bowl of cream. Unfortunately, he knew the animosity between the two had absolutely nothing (and everything) to do with him.

He pushed the door closed and slid his arm around Jubilee. Might as well go all in. "Jubilee _is_ here. She's been here around close to a month." He squeezed her, "Been clean the entire time." For some reason, he felt like that was important to say.

Laura only raised an eyebrow and instead turned her back on them to collect herself. She took in the scene in front of her: the furniture pushed out of the way and the mattress placed before the fire covered in tangled blankets. Logan bit back another groan. He and Laura had developed a good relationship, but she had always gotten cold and distant when it'd come to Jubilee. Remy had pointed out once that Logan gave Jubilee far more attention than he'd ever given Laura. He knew it was true, and had regretted it, but that had been the way things were. Besides, Laura and he, well, there was strange history there considering she was actually his clone. He could just imagine what she must be thinking now. Finally, he thought of a way to break the tension: Remove one of the causes. "Jubilee," he said, "Would you mind getting me a shirt?"

She nodded and disappeared into the room, pulling the door closed after her with a little more force than necessary. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and stepped into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. Laura followed him, and they were silent as it percolated. He could hear sounds from the bedroom, drawers opening and closing, the cabinet squeaking open in the bathroom where she stored her make up. Laura spent half the time silently looking at him (it felt more like judging him) and the other half staring at the closed bedroom door. She looked puzzled, and he thought he detected a bit of anger simmering there.

When the pot beeped, he poured himself a cup of coffee. She stepped around him to pull a mug out of the cupboard, allowing him to pour her a cup as well. She took hers black and scooted up until she sat on the counter. By the time she settled, she had composed her facial features back into her typical emotionless mask. He could still feel her gaze on him as he put a light amount of milk and sugar into his cup. He pulled out a cup for Jubilee as well.

When he still didn't answer her unspoken question, Laura finally asked, "So how long has this been going on?"

He selected a cigar from the box on top of the freezer, sliced the end off, and lit it from the stove before he answered her. He pulled out one of the chairs and straddled it backward. After taking a puff, he finally looked up at her. "I don't know if we can exactly say it's 'going on.' We were just starting when you showed up."

She rolled her eyes at him and said, "Don't be crude. You know what I'm asking. Seeing the two of you like…this. Well, it was unexpected to say the least."

He shrugged and took a drink. Finally, he shook his head, "I guess you could say it was news to us, too." He looked at her again and explained, "We're still figuring it all out."

She nodded, satisfied with that answer. She dipped one finger into the hot liquid and stirred it with her finger before taking another drink. "What happened to you?"

He looked down, having forgotten the bandages. He tugged them free and tossed them in the trash, pleased to see that there were just pink welts where his claws had broken the skin. Her eyes widened and her gaze darted to his hands, the question clear in her eyes.

He shook his head, "No, I didn't do it on purpose. Let's just say I got a visit from an old friend who wanted to make a point."

"Clearly," she said. She took another drink before admitting, "I know that I should have called before showing up. I knew she would be here if you were asking for the Sun Bender. Why does she want it?"

He took another puff from the cigar, and responded, "You'll have to ask her that."

Laura glanced toward the door that still remained closed. She tilted her head to the side, and with little inflection said, "It doesn't appear she wants to talk to me about anything." She looked back at him, her eyes betraying a hint of sadness as she said, "Perhaps I should just leave what I know with you and go. She would likely prefer that to my staying."

He shook his head and finished off his coffee. "No," he said firmly. "Whatever she thinks, it's for the best that you stay. She's got to get used to seeing people at some point."

She tilted her head, "Is this forced socialization a requirement of your new relationship?"

He choked on the smoke he'd just sucked in. Giving her an annoyed look, between coughs he said firmly, "No."

Jubilee walked back out, scowling at both of them. She wore a pair of boot-cut jeans, a loose navy sweater, and had pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She tossed Logan a plain black tee shirt as she snapped, "Geez, Laura. I know we haven't talked for a long time, but you should know better than to think I'm that easily pushed around."

Logan, still catching his breath from choking on the cigar smoke, gestured to the cup of coffee waiting for her on the counter. He'd purposely left it sitting next to Laura. Neither girl spoke or moved toward the cup, so he pushed himself into a standing position to pull on the shirt. He coughed again and said, "Well, I need some fresh air after that, so I'll just step outside to find some." He set his mug on the counter, shrugged on his coat while clamping the cigar between his teeth, and stepped out and away from the tension that was tangible.

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you'll forgive the fact that I've taken some liberties with Selene, but she's more of a means to an end at this point in the story. You'll learn a little more about her as time goes on. I'm not trying to stick to a particular history with her.

In terms of multiple storylines—I have some content written, but I think I'll finish this one out first and then add those in a "AU" sort of way.

Sorry about the delay in posting this week! Please keep the comments coming, and growlscout: as you've now seen, you were dead on with your guess! :D I guess I'm not as sneaky as I thought I was. I will take comfort in the fact that I surprised you with the previous chapter's cliff hanger though.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

_Coward_, Jubilee thought as she heard the door click closed behind Logan. She kept her gaze locked with Laura's, not wanting to be the first to look away. The other woman looked older. Like Logan, she seemed to have aged to her mid-thirties before her healing factor had kicked in to practically remove any signs of further aging. She wore her blue black hair cropped short now in a pixie cut with a few wisps that were longer framing each side of her face. She'd filled out more, her body still just as muscular but with more defined curves. She wore a leather jacket that went to mid-thigh, black leather pants, and a white, button-down shirt that she'd topped off with a loose, peach colored scarf with tiny white birds on it.

Jubilee wasn't sure how long she stood there, but it was long after her knuckles had turned white from gripping the back of the chair. Finally, Laura reached down to pick up Jubilee's cup of coffee and held it out to her, a challenge clear in the gesture. Jubilee paused only a moment before releasing her death grip on the chair to step around the table and take the mug. When she'd accepted it, Laura finally broke the stare long enough to take a sip from her own drink.

Choosing not to sit, Jubilee took a step back (out of striking distance), to lean against the counter as she took drink of the warm, creamy liquid. In the silence, both women recalled the last time they'd seen each other.

_Jubilee had been hanging at one of the seedier clubs in Chicago, surrounded by humans who were drugged out of their minds, looking for answers at the end of a needle or at the bottom of a bottle. She didn't care if they found their answers or not. She just knew they were easy pickings, and she could often get an added buzz from their blood. She had her head shaved and had multiple piercings in her ears. She wore next to nothing: ripped jeans that were cut short and a hot pink bra under a fishnet shirt. She certainly looked as if she fit right in with the regular clientele._

_So far that evening, she had already put three of the poor suckers out of their misery and didn't even feel the thirst for blood anymore. Still, she hadn't finished hunting for the night. She was scoping out her next victim when a woman stepped in front of her. _

_Waving a hand in the woman's face, Jubilee didn't even bother to look at her. "Sorry, sweetie," She slurred, feeling the effects of the drugs and alcohol she'd ingested as well as the secondhand thrill she'd got from the human blood. "Not interested in another girl tonight. Look somewhere else."_

_Perhaps she should have looked up, because then she'd have had the chance to brace for the punch that knocked her off her stool and onto the sticky floor. The girl stood over her, dark blue, angry eyes glaring down at her. Eyes that were so familiar. She was so distracted trying to figure out why they looked so familiar that she didn't bother trying to struggle to her feet. Frustrated, the woman reached down to lift her to her feet to punch her again. _

_Okay. Now this was getting annoying. This bitch was totally killing her buzz. "Fuck off," Jubilee said, half-heartedly blocking the next punch. In the process though, she missed the kick that hit her in the abdomen that sent her flying into a nearby table. Patrons scattered and formed a loose circle around them. She pushed herself to her feet, her red eyes glaring through the pink shades she wore. The woman strode closer, and Jubilee forced her eyes to focus, still struggling to gain any sense of her surroundings with the drug-laden blood still circulating in her system. It was then that she recognized the face. She stood up straight from her crouch, grabbing at one of the stools that was nearby to help with her balance. "X," she spat the name out, not caring that the other woman had abandoned that name years before. _

_Laura responded by charging her again, blades springing from each hand as she swung at her. Jubilee just laughed, the drugged effects fading slightly as adrenaline coursed through her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd fought. She'd stopped feeding from anything that put up a fight years prior. She decided she might actually enjoy this. She was able to evade the girls' swipes, which should have warned her that the assassin was here for some other reason than to kill her._

_A few bouncers had joined the ring of spectators, deciding not to interfere once they saw Laura's hardware. Instead, they just tried to keep people back. Bets were already being placed, and shouts of encouragement came from the crowd. It seemed to distract and annoy Laura, but it spurred Jubilee into action. She ducked her head and ran forward, charging the other girl and body slamming her to the floor. _

"_Bitch," Laura swore before easily kicking the other girl off. Vampire strength and speed wasn't enough when Jubilee still wasn't coherent enough to use it properly. Jubilee jumped to her feet and charged at her again, but Laura easily dodged this time, backflipping out of the way and kicking at Jubilee's face in the process. Again, the fact that that deadly blade hadn't appeared on the edge of her boot was a clue that Jubilee ignored._

_It was her turn to swear when the kick sent her glasses flying from her head. As her red eyes were revealed, new bets were placed from the surrounding audience. There went her chances of scoring another easy kill for the night. "You're going to pay for that," Jubilee promised as she charged again._

_This time, Laura looked bored and simply stepped aside to clothesline the vampire. Jubilee laid on her back for a second too long, the breath knocked out of her. Laura placed one booted foot on her neck, the blade now springing forth to press into the underside of Jubilee's jaw. Laura leaned forward, resting her weight on that leg so that the blade began to pierce the skin. Very quietly, she spoke, knowing the other woman would hear her even with the shouts that surrounded them. "Now you listen to me," she growled. "I heard about you sneaking around the X-Men and the threat you made to Remy." She leaned closer so that her face was about a foot away from Jubilee's. "If I ever hear of you coming anywhere near the X-Men, or the Jean Grey School, I will kill you, but I'll make you miserable first. Your death will be one that I draw out for a long time, and you'll regret the day you turned into such a miserable creature."_

_When Jubilee began to laugh, Laura pulled back, confused. Jubilee used the opportunity to grab Laura's foot with her hands and twist. She easily broke the bone and rolled away as the other girl fell to the floor. Scowling, Laura re-set the bone of her foot as Jubilee sprang to her feet, her hands on her hips. Shaking her head, she said, "As if I didn't already regret it…." She smiled and rolled her eyes. "You can't scare me, X." She stressed the name purposefully, her lips curved into a nasty smirk. _

_Laura remained on the floor for just long enough for her ankle to begin to knit itself back together. Her patience was wearing thin, and besides, she'd passed along the message that had caused her to search out her former friend. She got to her feet and easily knocked the other girl down again by feinting left but performing a powerful uppercut from the right. Jubilee flew into the air and then landed with a heavy thud on the floor. _

_Laura picked her up off the floor and held her up in the air by one arm, shaking her as if she were a rag doll. She held one of the sharp adamantium blades against Jubilee's throat and growled, "I'd do the world a favor by cutting your head off!" _

_Jubilee smiled toothily, making sure that her fangs showed, her red eyes daring the girl to do it, almost begging her to fulfill that promise. Instead, Laura just pushed her away so that she fell back onto the floor again. She looked down at her with pity and just shook her head. "You don't even deserve an honorable death. You disgust me. I meant what I said, keep your distance, or next time I will kill you." With those parting words, Laura turned on her heel and stalked out of the club._

They hadn't seen each other again since that night.

Laura glanced at the window over the sink, which was covered with heavy drapes. She knew Logan wanted them to make up. He had hated that Laura had never been understanding about what Jubilee had been going through, that she still held so much against her. Sighing, she pushed herself off the counter and stood beside the other girl. "Jubilee," she began.

Jubilee shook her head, "No." She took a few steps away to the living area. She retrieved a few pieces of wood to add to the fire, pushing the mattress out of the way with her foot. "I need to talk first."

Laura sighed but shrugged out of her jacket and settled in the comfortable armchair. It normally smelled of Logan's musky scent, but now Jubilee's scent clung to it as well. She wrinkled her nose, comparing the vampire smell to that of burning. The bitterness rose up in her, and she tried to push it down. It was Logan's decision who he welcomed into his home. She crossed one leg over the other, her bobbing foot the only sign that she was anxious for the other girl to continue.

Jubilee adjusted the fresh logs over the flames, using a poker to nudge them into the exact position she wanted. Both women knew she was stalling. Finally, Jubilee turned to face her, her jaw clenched tightly and wariness filling her ruby gaze. Laura's foot stopped bobbing when it was clear the other woman was going to speak.

"I'm sorry." The words were clipped as Jubilee said them, so Laura didn't respond. She knew she would forgive the other girl, if only for the fact that it would please Logan, but Laura had no plans on making it easy on her. And she was far from ready.

After a few moments of silence, Jubilee pushed at her hair, forgetting it was tied back in a ponytail, and causing it to pop free from its restraint. She just looked down at the band as it bounced across the floor. She paced a few steps, Laura's silence obviously wearing on her. Finally, she stopped in front of her again. "You certainly aren't going to make this easy on me, are you?" Laura only raised an eyebrow in response.

Finally, Jubilee dropped down to sit on the edge of the mattress, staring at the floor for a moment before meeting the blue gaze. "I know it's not enough. I know you're upset with me for a lot of different things-for leaving, for what I did to Remy, for what I did at the school, and for..." she paused to swallow hard, "...and for hurting Logan over and over."

Laura looked away from the guilt that showed so clearly on the vampire's features. She didn't want to see it. She wasn't ready to forgive her so easily. There could be no compassion at this point. "It's not good enough." She said simply. "You can't just fix things with words."

Jubilee sighed and ran her hands through her hair again, grabbing a fistful and tugging hard in her frustration. "I know that, Laura! What do you think I'm trying to do here?"

Laura shrugged in response and said nothing. She gritted her own teeth, not wanting to feel any sort of sympathy for Jubilee, and at the same time, trying her best not to give her own anger free reign. She felt as if her emotions were tearing her in too many different directions at one time.

Jubilee took a few deep breaths and let her head sag forward into her hands. "I know you don't believe me. I know you think I'm here to get what I need from Logan and to run, but it's different this time. I want to have a normal life."

"Fuck you," Laura spoke the words evenly and coldly, causing Jubilee's head to jerk upward to meet her gaze. Laura held her relaxed pose in the chair, though her hands were fisted in her lap, the only sign of the seething anger that was filling her. "Fuck. You. Jubilee. Listen to yourself, whining about how you're going to change and live a normal life. You don't deserve a fucking normal life. You don't deserve Logan's - -" she paused as she searched for words, "You don't deserve whatever it is he's giving you right now."

There was an awkward moment of silence. She could see the anger leap into Jubilee's expression but almost as quickly disappear. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, so Laura continued, "I could forgive you for the killing because we both know I've probably got a body count that mirrors yours, but I can't forgive what you've done to the people who cared about you. When Remy came home," she paused to take a deep breath, to shake her head to try to clear the memories from her head yet still seeing his battered body, the marks on his neck, and the emotional pain in his eyes. When she continued, she spoke through gritted teeth. "Of every person who went after you, how you hurt them. And for what you did to Logan," she shook her head again, "What you did to him is worse of all." When Jubilee looked confused, Laura laughed mirthlessly. "You stupid bitch, you don't even know do you? You didn't even bother to look at him when you sucked the life out of him these past years."

Finally, she pushed herself to her feet and paced away, back to the kitchen, then to the couch, and then back. She gritted her fists, fighting to keep the sharp adamantium spikes where they belonged, buried. She longed to let them free, to hurt Jubilee, to take out the anger and frustration she'd felt all this time on her. Jubilee remained silent, her own hands fisted at her side as she watched Laura pace anxiously. When Laura finally stopped to look on her, she saw for the first time true pain on the girl's face.

Taking pity on her, Laura explained, "He left everyone. All of us, Jubilee. Kitty, me, everyone. We still needed him. You know he was a father to so many of us. And I'm not even talking about coming up here. It happened a long time before that, about the same time as we started hearing stories about you - - about what you'd become. He lost all focus. He wasn't himself. He wasn't happy. He was a fucking shell. He went through the motions of everything at the school, but he wasn't Logan. He didn't laugh or tease. It was like he'd lost the will to...do anything." She stopped speaking abruptly as the wave of anger, frustration, and most of all sadness swept through her at the memory. "We all did everything we could think of to try to help him, to bring him back. It was part of the reason why Remy went after you, to make you see. You wouldn't even listen to him." She clenched her fists and turned away from Jubilee, not wanting to see the clear agony on her features. "In all the time that any of us knew him, you managed to do the one thing that no one else ever has." She turned her blazing gaze back to Jubilee, "You broke him. You made him feel as if he'd failed, and you didn't give a shit either way."

Jubilee shook her head in pained denial. No. She would have noticed when she came to see him. She wouldn't have been so selfish to have missed such a change. Right?

Laura shook her head and laughed, "You didn't even notice, did you? Or he put a hell of an act on for you. He tried to pretend everything was fine with us. We tried to pretend along with him. Ororo said he needed the time to come to terms with your decisions, and we tried to give him whatever support we could, but he didn't want it. He was too busy being strong. When he realized he wasn't fooling us, that's when he left to come up here, where he didn't have to put on the act any longer. He ran away from everyone who depended on him because all he could think about what how he'd failed you."

Laura turned back to look at the girl and was surprised to see red tracks streaking down her cheeks from bloody tears. Jubilee dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders wracked with harsh sobs. Laura felt something in her chest twist, and she fought against the sympathy she began to feel. She turned away to move back to the kitchen, twitching the heavy curtain aside to look out into the snow-covered clearing. Logan was nowhere to be seen. She looked back at the still weeping girl, anger rising up in her. What good did her tears do now? Without another word, she moved to the door and walked outside to leave Jubilee alone.

* * *

It didn't take Laura long to find Logan. He had taken the truck along a bumpy path into the woods and had gone quite a distance, most likely to give them some privacy. When she found him, his coat was draped over the tailgate, and he was splitting wood with his claws. He looked at her, glanced behind her, and frowned. "Where's Jubilee?"

Laura's frustration finally bubbled to the surface, "Really? Is she the only thing you care about?"

He sighed, tossing a few sticks of wood into the back of the truck. "Do we really have to go through this again?"

Laura ground her teeth, "I don't think we've ever really 'gone through it,' Logan."

He pointed to half of the downed tree, "Work out your frustration before you need dental work," She glared at his attempt at humor but took his advice, attacking the tree with her own claws.

He waited for her to get a few good swipes out before he commented, "It's different this time."

She made a disgusted sound in her throat, "You have been oblivious to any of her faults for years." He tossed a few more pieces of sliced wood into the truck, not answering her accusation. Finally, she spoke again, "What makes it different?"

He paused in the act of reaching for more split pieces to meet her angry gaze, the color a mirror image of his own. Quietly, he said, "She told me it was."

Laura laughed bitterly. "You have got to be kidding me."

He straightened and wiped some of the sweat from his forehead with the tail of his shirt. "Laura, Jubilee is many things, but we both know she ain't a liar. I know you blame her, but she has never lied to me or given me false hope."

"Yeah," Laura said, her tone still acidic, "You've always been good at doing that all on your own."

He continued as if she hadn't spoken, "She hasn't ever wanted to try before, and she's been working up to this. It wasn't an overnight decision."

Laura rolled her eyes and attacked a rather large, knotty piece of wood, enjoying the resistance the knots caused.

She heard him approach, but didn't stop in her movements until she felt his hand on her shoulder. She stood up stiffly, staring down at the sliced pieces of wood that were so small they could only serve as kindling.

"Laura, you have to forgive her at some point." his words were quiet. "If you don't want to do it for her, that's fine. But I need you to do it for me. Because I'm selfish, and I need her to get through this. I have always loved her, just like I love you, but..." he trailed off, "But now it's different."

She clenched her fists so hard she could feel her fingernails biting into the skin of her palms. She didn't want to hear about it, about how special Jubilee was, about how much she meant to him. Laura had been aware of that since she'd first met him, hoping he might be the father figure she had never had. She'd known that she wouldn't ever measure up to the other girl, and it had always hurt to know that she was runner up even after she and Jubilee had become friends.

"Laura," he said her name quietly, his hand moving from her shoulder, down her arm, down to take her hand into his. His fingers gently pried her fingers apart, his soothing the raw, already-healing half-moons her nails had made. "Laura," he said her name again as he pulled her against him and into his arms. "You have to let the anger go. All of it." He paused, his hands soothing down her back slowly in an attempt to make her stiff body soften. Gradually, she did, resting her head against the crook of his neck, so she easily heard his softly whispered plea, "For me."

* * *

Author's note: Hope you're enjoying the story so far. We're finally getting to the point where Jubilee is going to have to pay the piper for some of what she's done in the past. It won't be easy for her (or Logan or Laura for that matter). Please keep the reviews coming! I'm a little behind on my writing, but I'll try to catch up in time for Wednesday's post.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

Logan tried to ignore the guilt that clawed at him as his words had the desired effect. Laura caved. He felt her shoulders shudder as she released the breath she'd been holding. He could feel her tears mix with the sweat that had already dampened the front of his shirt. He knew they were tears of anger and frustration. She wasn't ready to forgive Jubilee; he was rushing her. He continued to stroke her back, standing still as she cried. He tried to tell himself that it was good for her, that he wasn't manipulating her only for Jubilee's sake. But he knew better, had learned a long time ago that he'd put what was best for Jubilee before what was good for Laura. Or, if he was honest with himself, what was best for anyone, including himself.

He closed his eyes, feeling a different sort of guilt wash over him. He tried his best not to think about it: about the fact that it was his fault that Jubilee had ever been turned into a vampire in the first place. The only reason it had happened had been because Xarus had wanted _him_. When Laura let out a deep sigh, he was drawn back into the present. He patted her back a little awkwardly. Once more, instead of focusing on the woman who needed him, he had been lost in thought about a different one.

When she stepped back, her eyes were hard. She stared at him for a few moments as if she were trying to read something in him. He kept his emotions locked down and simply looked back at her, waiting to hear her decision. Finally, she shook her head. "You know I'll do it for you, but you can't expect me to pretend like the past dozen years haven't happened."

He nodded, "I don't think any of us believe that's possible. We're all different now."

She stared at him a moment longer without saying anything before she turned away to load the scraps of wood into the back of the truck. He moved to help her, knowing that she'd closed herself off from him in those final moments. He knew he should be more upset by that, that it should bother him that Laura knew that he would always choose Jubilee first. But he wasn't. He tugged his coat back on and climbed into the cab, waiting for her to slide onto the bench seat as well. He gripped the steering wheel more tightly than he needed to as he guided the truck along the rutted path. Despite the way things should be, he wasn't upset by the twinges of guilt, by Laura's anger and hurt. Instead, he felt a sense of satisfaction and relief that she'd help Jubilee. He glanced at her, but she had her head turned as she looked out the side window. She was the closest thing to a daughter he would ever have. The thought flitted through his head, and he pushed it aside. Jubilee was what mattered. He'd think about the rest later.

He pulled the truck up in front of the cabin and headed inside, a slight frown on his face. Laura jumped out of the truck to follow, but they both knew before even stepping foot on the porch that Jubilee wasn't inside. He pushed the door open anyway and looked around. She had moved the mattress back into the bedroom and tidied up the place before leaving. He clenched his fists and turned to Laura who was only a step behind him. There was anger in his voice when he demanded, "What did you say to her?"

She opened her mouth to defend herself but no words came out. She just shook her head. Letting out a growl of frustration, he turned from her to leap off the porch, easily catching Jubilee's familiar scent and starting off at a quick jog to follow her. Laura didn't follow him, and he decided it was just as well. If Jubilee had decided to take off again, he'd be too furious to even speak to Laura.

He hadn't tracked Jubilee for more than a mile when the trail stopped cold. He turned a slow circle, his eyes seeking her out among the shadows and shapes of the trees.

"Up here," she said. He looked above him. She was sitting on a large branch with her legs stretched out before her and her back pressed against the tree.

He felt relief wash over him, but tried to keep his voice calm and level when he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Thinking." was her quiet response. She hadn't looked down at him since she'd first spoken, instead staring ahead of her.

Frowning, he asked, "'Bout what?"

She was silent for a few moments more and then rolled to the side off of the branch. Her body twisted in midair so that she was able to land lightly on her feet next to him. She finally looked at him, though she didn't speak. Now that she was close, he could see that her cheeks were stained red from tears, and she looked as if she were in pain. He took a step toward, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. When she took a hasty step back, away from him, he stopped, his hand hanging in midair for a confused second before he let it drop to his side. He could feel his anger at Laura come back to him. "What did Laura say?" he demanded with a growl.

She continued to look at him for a few moments, her eyes searching his face and body. He clenched his fists in frustration, at her continued silence and swore, "Damnit, Jubilee!"

She held up a hand to him, "I just need to know why you came up here. Why did you leave the school?"

Baffled, he asked, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question," she continued to study him as she waited.

Frowning, he explained, "I was sick of the violence, of seeing kids have to fight, of seeing them have to prepare themselves for a life of being an outcast. I needed a break, so I left. I've done it before, so what does it matter?"

She shook her head, her face looking sad, "It had nothing to do with me?" she asked.

His brow furrowed in confusion, "Of course not. Why would it?"

She studied him for another long, uncomfortable moment before letting her breath out and stepping closer to him to wrap her arms around his waist. He heaved a sigh of relief, holding her tightly to him, but his wariness returned when he heard her say, "I wonder who you're really lying to: me or to yourself?"

He grabbed her by the arms and pushed her away so that he could look into her eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

When she raised her gaze to meet his, he could see a misty quality to her eyes signaling the return of her tears. "Logan," she began, "I'm so sorry that I did this to you." He clenched his jaw and tried to maintain his control, but she ignored the signs of his hold on his temper slipping and continued, "It's my fault that..."

Her words were cut off as he gave her a hard shake. When she opened her mouth to speak again, he pushed her away from him, finally losing his grip on his patience. "I'm fucking sick and tired of hearing that, Jubilee. I thought we were putting things behind us so you could move forward? I've said I don't care what you've done in the past. I've said I don't give a shit about whether or not you're a vampire, so you need to get over it. God knows that's what I've been trying to do."

When she just stared at him without responding, he threw his hands up in the air and turned on his heel to stomp back toward the cabin. It was probably best that he left her standing alone in the snow than stayed there with her and throttled her.

* * *

"You comin' back to de hotel tonight, petite?" The husky voice asked over the phone,

"No," Laura said, poking at the fire to try to help the wood catch, "I think I'll spend the day here. I haven't even gotten to talk to Logan about what needs to be done."

"What you been doin' dis whole time?"

Laura let out a frustrated huff of air. "What else?" She asked bitterly, "Dealing with Jubilee drama. I swear she never matured past the age of fifteen."

The response was a low chuckle, "Come now, you sure you ain't being too rough on 'er?"

Laura paused in her response as she heard stomping on the porch followed by Logan coming in the door. By the glare he shot her, he had heard her comment. Well that and obviously things with Jubilee had not gone well. She sighed when he just walked into the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

There was more laughter on the other side of the phone line, 'It sound like de drama still goin' on dere. Sorry to be missin' it."

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit back down on the couch. "Ha," she said dryly, "I'm sure you'll get the same thrill from watching daytime television." She heard a few things slamming in the other room and sighed. "Besides," she admitted, "I need to stick around to try to fix some things. It's partly my fault."

The man laughed again, "Oh, dat's impossible. You are such a sweet-tempered girl. You never get into any trouble."

Despite herself, she smiled, the teasing helping her feel a little better about everything. At least she wasn't alone. Before she could reply, she heard Jubilee's boots crunching through the snow, signaling her return. "Listen, I gotta go. You can expect us after sundown tonight." She slid the phone into her pocket just as Jubilee came into the door.

The other girl looked at her in surprise. She obviously hadn't expected to see her still there. "Where's Logan?" she asked, still standing by the door.

Laura gestured toward the closed bedroom door in response.

"Oh," Jubilee said. She slowly took of her coat and slipped her feet out of her boots. Then, she glanced at Laura again before turning to the fridge and pulling out a bottle filled with red liquid. She cracked the top open and leaned against the refrigerator as she drank, her gaze studying the door.

Laura watched her for a few seconds. "You know earlier, when you listed everything you were sorry for, you forgot one thing," Laura said as she broke the silence. When Jubilee looked over in question, she explained, "You disappointed me, too, you know. You were always the one of us who had it together. When I was the one who was heading down the wrong path, you were one of the people who helped me through it. In Paris..." she trailed off as they both remembered what Laura had been going through, dealing with the guilt, the self-hatred, and the realities of her own past. Laura shook her head, "You were a big part of making me realize that I could start again. That I could begin to forgive myself, or at the very least to stop punishing myself. I have never been able to understand how you could say those things, to be that girl who was struggling so successfully with what she'd become, and then to kill so many people so needlessly a little over a decade later." She met her gaze, "When you gave up, it made me really question whether I'd be able to keep fighting, too."

Jubilee swallowed hard as if there were something stuck in her throat, and then took another drink, draining half of the bottle. "I'm sorry."

Laura shook her head and stood up. "No, it's okay." It surprised her that her words were the truth. "It helped me realize that I could still be who I wanted to be. That I had a choice to make every single day." She moved toward the door, tugging on her own coat. "Everyone deserves a fresh start." She paused as she zipped up the coat and tugged the door open. "Maybe you need to give yourself one." She looked pointedly toward the bedroom before stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind her, deciding to give the two of them some privacy.

* * *

Jubilee stared at the door Laura had closed behind her for a few moments. Then, she drained the rest of the bottle, listening as Laura's footsteps faded into the silence. She rinsed out the bottle, taking a few drinks of water to wash the taste of blood from her mouth, and then set it on the counter to dry. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out before turning back around to walk to the bedroom door. She paused a moment with her hand on the knob before she pushed it open. She kept her gaze on the floor as she pulled it closed again behind her, steeling herself for his anger.

When she looked up, it wasn't there. He was simply laying on the bed with his arms folded behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. She opened her mouth to apologize for upsetting him and realized that would probably only upset him more. She snapped her mouth closed and crawled onto the bed next to him, laying back to mirror his pose. Even though she wasn't touching him, she was close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. She stared up at the ceiling for a while, tracing the exposed beams with her eyes.

He still didn't move or speak. She glanced at him, and when he continued to ignore her, she shifted her gaze to the wall directly across from the bed. There were four pictures there. She'd seen them before but had never really studied them. Each was of the same location: the view from the front porch that showed part of the clearing and half of the pond. She could see the trees in the background as well as the branches that hung out over the pond as well as their mirrored reflections. All four seasons were represented there. Where most people would have ordered them from Spring to Winter, Logan had placed the image of Winter in the middle, starting the series with the Fall. Her eyes flickered between the two center pictures: Winter and Spring.

As she studied them, she let her mind wander. She supposed that it made sense to have Winter in the middle, considering the fact that it was by far the longest season. Personally, she would have started with the Winter then. Unconsciously, she began chewing on her bottom lip. The winter did look barren, but it was beautiful in its simplicity. The pond was frozen over, and everything was covered in white. Even the trees and branches were coated in ice. Her eyes flickered back to the Spring picture. It wasn't as lovely. There was still some snow on the ground, especially in the background beneath the trees. The pond water was murky and brown from the ice melt. She knew from a glance at the Summer picture that it would eventually be so clear that you could see the stones at the bottom. The spring grass that showed in the pasture was brown and dead. There were several large muddy spots in places. It was definitely not as bright and cheerful as the summer scene with its wildflowers, but it was a beginning. It showed signs of renewal, of rebirth.

She sat upright in the bed, a thought repeating itself in her head: It was a beginning. She pulled her knees to her chest to wrap her arms around them, her eyes still riveted on the picture. Laura had told her that everyone deserved a fresh start. She looked down at her linked fingers. She couldn't remember the last time that she'd used them to kill. That didn't mean she didn't still long for the violence that was such a large part of her vampiric nature. But she hadn't given in. Not for over two years. She closed her eyes for a moment as she felt a wave of…something…something that felt clean and warm wash over her. She'd been so upset with herself and so overcome with the guilt that she'd never stopped to realize that she had made some progress.

It was a beginning.

A fresh start.

She felt a few tears trickle down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away, her lips stretching into a smile as she viewed the picture with fresh eyes. There were buds and a few early blooms on the branches that hung out over the water, and bits of green were beginning to appear in the brown grass of the clearing. The stones surrounding the pond that were normally covered in algae in the summer had been washed clean by the melting snow so that they shone brightly in the sun. She smiled more widely. She _could_ do this. She could have her fresh start if she let herself. She could be reborn.

She turned on the bed so that she was kneeling next to Logan. He hadn't moved or changed his position, still staring at the beams above. Not caring that he was still angry, she threw herself across his chest to cradle his face with her hands and press her lips to his.

She felt his body jerk in surprise, but he didn't move besides that. When she kneeled upwards again, he had at least shifted his gaze to study her, even if his face remained expressionless. She smiled down at him as she tugged his arms out from under his head. She pulled them to her lips so that she could kiss his palms while his look turned to one of bewilderment.

"I'm not sorry!" She said enthusiastically, "Oh Logan, don't you see? I'm not at all. How silly to only focus on winter, to get stuck there and to regret it. If anything had been different…if it hadn't be so hard, then spring wouldn't be so wonderful, would it?" She didn't pause to let him answer even though he opened his mouth to respond. She twined her fingers through his and glanced back at the picture for a moment before she beamed down at him. "It's a fresh start. You've been telling me this whole time, and I never heard you. I'm ready. Don't you see? I'm ready now to begin again!"

He sat up, clearly confused. She leaned forward to kiss him again, still clutching his hands between them. "You love me." She said the words more quietly than she'd said the others. When he realized it was a sort of question, he nodded, and she smiled again. She straddled his legs so that she could hug him tightly, enjoying the feeling of his arms coming around her. She sat there for a few long moments, and he was silent, just holding her as she finally accepted that fact. With her face still pressed against his neck, she said, "Thank you for waiting for me."

She felt more than heard the chuckle that rumbled in his chest. "Darlin," he said softly, "I'd wait as long as it would take for you. I told ya before. I won't give up on you."

She smiled and kissed his shoulder. "I love you, too. I'm sorry I didn't say it before."

He cupped her cheek with his hand to tilt her face so that he could kiss her lips softly. He grinned, "You didn't have to say it. I know."

She laughed and rolled her eyes, "Of course you do."

He winked, and she laughed again, feeling as if she could float from the lightness and joy that filled her chest. She let out a thrilled squeal as he rolled their bodies until she was pinned beneath him. They smiled at each other as she ran her fingers across his cheeks and into his hair.

"We done fightin' now?" He asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

When she nodded, complaining, "You were the one giving me the silent treatment, so I'd say that's your call."

He grinned cockily, "Good, then we can get to makin' up."

And they did.

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did!

Even though it might feel like it, this isn't the end, just a happy rest stop in Jubilee's rather difficult journey. She and Logan may be on the same page right now, but they've still got a lot of ground to cover before they are on steady footing with each other.

I'll be posting a new chapter here again next Wednesday, but on Saturday of this week, I'll be posting a new story "The Collector" that will be relatively short and will cover what happened to Laura before she showed up at the cabin. That storyline will merge with this one in a few chapters time. I just thought it might be easier to write it that way than to have this story overrun by flashbacks.

Thanks for the reads and reviews!


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